Lorien Legacies High School

by Anonymous-read

Exactly what it sounds like. My take on what the Lorien Legacies characters would be like if they were regular humans going through high school. Disclaimer: I don't own Lorien Legacies

24. Chapter 24

Hey guys! Wow... it's been a loooong time.

As always, I'll start it off with an apology. I'm truly sorry for being gone this long, I really didn't think I would be. Not going to go into any details or anything but some personal stuff came up and I just needed to take some time to focus on other things for a bit. Don't get me wrong, I was still working on the story, just at a much slower rate than usual.

Anyway, it's done, and as always, y'all have been beyond great. I appreciate your understanding and support to all ends, and am truly grateful for anyone who takes the time to review and/or read.

Speaking of which...

Reviews:

loricnumbersix6- Regarding the appearances of characters to real life people, I actually don't have anyone in mind that I see as any certain character. Of course, I see them a certain way in my head but I find it hard to translate that into writing. In saying that, after reading your review I did do some online searching but still couldn't find anyone. So if you have someone in mind you think represents the characters please do not hesitate to let me know, I'm genuinely curious :) As for other characters in this story, I was planning on adding and One/Adam kind of side plot. I've thought about the other characters and think that I may add them down the road, but not right now due to them not exactly fitting in anywhere at the moment. As always, thank you so much for the review and I'll be happy to answer anymore questions you might have :)

J- Hey, glad you liked the chapter! I'm super happy the story made your day better. I hope you got all your work done and good luck to your soccer team in the future :) And Yeah, you're completely right about the height difference between Riley and Stanley being a bit much. I was thinking that too so after reading your review I did some research to see if I could get a gauge on exactly how much of a difference that was. Anyway, after almost an embarrising amount of time searching up the heights of different celebrities, I finally found out that the height difference between Stanley and Riley is the same as the height different between Julianne Hough and Josh Duhamel (at least that's what the internet told me). They're in the movie Safe Haven together and it's on Netflix, so if you're ever curious to see kind of how Riley and Stanley would look together (like I was), it's a pretty good movie to watch. Anyway, thank you for the lovely review, anymore comments and/or constructive criticism is gladly welcome so keep it coming please :)

yeethaw boyo- Please don't commit arson, lol. Glad you like the story and you will get some more John and Maren very soon. Not this chapter, but soon (I promise). Thanks for the review!

Mr. Beast- You'll be happy to know that I'm already subscribed to Pewdiepie :) Thanks for the review!

Guest- Hello! Don't worry about your review, it was not rude, seriously, I just love getting feedback wether it's praise or criticism. Update speed is something I've been trying to improve on for a long time, and I think I've found the problem. Like you said, my chapter are super long, especially in the later chapters. I mean, the last three have all been 20,000 words or more, so I think I may need to cut it down a bit if it means faster updates. As for the A/Ns; yeah, they're long but I feel like some things just need to be addressed. They are an optional read though (I feel like half the people don't read them anyway, which is completely fine because they are long), so feel free to skip them if you want. It's probably just an apology for five months without an update anyway lol. Also, I'm super glad you're enjoying the story, and I'm not about to give up on it anytime soon. Thank you for your lovely review and sorry again about the update speed. I am sincerely trying to be better with it :)

I wish I could respond to every one of you because you're all so lovely and patient, but sadly it's very late and I just want to get this up as fast as possible because you've already waited long enough. Just know that all of your reviews and support mean the world to me and I appreciate it to all ends, truthfully :)

Also, a lot of you were like, super happy about Riley and Stanley getting together except the thing is that they're kind of... not. Like I said before, Riley and Stanley (are we settled on Ranley for the ship name?) is going to be a slow burn, so I'm incredibly sorry to disappoint, but they're not together. Not yet anyway (it's addressed in this chapter).

I was going to put more in this chapter but I discovered it was already like 20,000 words so I figured I'd just upload it. Still not completely happy with it but you guys definitely deserve something so here it is.

I've now gone on for far too long so please read on and enjoy :)

---

Stanley

I can feel the hangover as soon as I wake up.

My head throbs and my mouth is dry, and there's the undeniable sense of regret that always comes from emptying a few too many beer bottles. The room is dark around me, which tells me it's sometime in the middle of the night. As I debate getting up, I watch the fan blades swirl in the darkness of the ceiling above me, slowly blinking as I will the starting pain in my head to stay away. Eventually though, I deem my mouth too dry to continue like this, and I put my feet over the side of my bed, yawning and wobbling slightly when I stand up.

Stepping quietly down the stairs is a problem when you're heavy and there's black spots interrupting your vision, but I make it work, turning the corner sharply at the bottom to go to the kitchen. Then I remember Riley sleeps down here and slow my pace, softening my footfalls and finding myself glad I forgot to take off my socks before I got into bed. It makes way less sound on the wooden floor than my bare feet would.

When I get to the end of the hall, I stand for a moment, squinting at the couch and looking for any movement that could mean I've woken her up. It's too dark to see though, so I make my way to the fridge, opening it as softly as I can manage. I reach for a bottle of water. A glance at the stovetop clock tells me it's a little past four.

I close the fridge, which contains only water and beer since apparently nobody who works in this hotel knows how to stock a damn fridge. Although when I voiced this opinion the first day we got here, Marina reasoned that if they stocked the fridge I wouldn't have room for the beer to go in, so that made it a little better. I sleepily fumble with the cap of the water bottle as I walk away, peering at the couch once more. I don't know what I'm looking for, but I thought I'd see something, maybe some movement or sign of life at the very least. There's nothing.

Backing up in the direction of the fridge again with furrowed eyebrows, I open the appliance wide. The white glow illuminates the rest of the room just enough for me to see the couch. It's empty, the blankets folded back messily.

Squinting at the suspiciously empty couch, I down almost the entire bottle of water in a matter of ten seconds before placing it on the counter again, not bothering to try and find a recycling bin. Before I know it, my feet are taking me back down the hall to find that the bathroom is dark, so she's not in there. The thought to knock on Marina's and Maren's door actually does cross my mind, but that's too creepy, and there's a good chance Maren would kill me if I interrupted her sleep, so I creep past their door as quietly as possible.

There's only one more place she could be and I'm already putting on my boots before I can think about it. Orange fabric catches my eye as I reach for my coat and I realize Riley never took hers. While I admit to not knowing the exact temperature, I do know it's night and it's cold, and if she's going to stand outside at four o'clock in the morning like a weird person, then she has to at least wear a coat. I grab it off the hook and open the door.

Riley's standing at the railing of the deck. She doesn't jump when the door creaks open, which I'm not surprised at anyway because while she may be overly excitable at times, I do know she's not a jumpy person. She does however turn to look behind her, shooting me a tight smile as I close the door behind me.

"Hey." Her voice is a little scratchy, her throat probably dry like mine. She's wearing plaid pyjama pants and a hoodie, obviously out here as a result of her failure getting to sleep.

"Hi." I reply.

She turns back around, resting her elbows on the snowy railing and looking out over the yellow glow of streetlights in the parking lot. It's not snowing tonight, so the tranquil scene isn't interrupted, looking strangely like it's frozen in time.

"Why are you out here?" She asks, and something weird strikes me about her tone. It's not mean or accusing or anything, it's just... flat.

"I went downstairs to get a drink, then I noticed you weren't on the couch." I feel the cold on my face and hands as I slowly go the short distance it takes to get the railing. The frigid air seeps into the fabric of my shirt where I left my coat open, but it's strangely refreshing. "And you forgot your jacket." Reaching over, I slip the coat around her shoulders.

"Oh, thanks." She puts her arms through the sleeves, leaning back into the railing once again.

"Why are you out here?" I repeat the question she asked me.

She thinks about it for a moment, although her facial expression doesn't change, which is weird for her. "Are you ever just like, super tired, but you still can't get to sleep?" She asks.

I nod, waiting for her to elaborate, but she doesn't. I press my lips together and look down as silence washes over us. It's not awkward, but it's not entirely comfortable either. She doesn't seem to notice, continuing to stare at one spot in the parking lot, fingers lightly tapping against the wood of the railing.

"Are you okay?" I ask bluntly.

The smile she puts on almost looks forced. She nods anyway, looking up but avoiding my eyes. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"Alright, uh.. good." I glance at her, still bothered by her behaviour. I was hoping what happened at the lodge wouldn't change anything. Kissing seemed like a great idea when I was drunk, but now considering she's barely looking at me, I start to think it may not have been my best action. "It's just, you're acting a little weird, I just want to make sure."

She sighs, not loudly. Some people might just write it off as a slightly heavier breath, but for some reason I know that's not it. "I'm okay, Stanley."

I don't believe her. "Is it because of what happened at the lodge?" I ask before I even know it's coming out of my mouth.

She shakes her head and closes her eyes for a moment. "No."

"Because if it is, I'm sorry." I continue anyway, having my suspicious. "I was drunk and I shouldn't have kissed you, I didn't-"

"Stanley, it's fine." She interrupts. I stop talking and look at her as she sighs again, looking like it's a struggle for her to get her words in order. "We were both drunk, okay? We do stupid stuff when we're drunk. I don't get hung up on it."

"Are you sure?" I watch her skeptically and she looks down, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Because I'm sorry. I didn't think it would be a big deal, except if it makes you feel weird or you're mad-"

"Stanley." There's a certain warning tone in her voice that I haven't heard from her before that makes me stop talking. She raises her eyebrows at me. "If I'm mad about something, I'll tell you. And I'm not mad about the stupid kiss, alright?" The words seem to ring in the frigid air, even though she didn't even say them that loud.

It's a tame outburst for most people, but considering I've never actually heard her voice come close to snapping at someone, my eyes widen in shock. She looks at me and must see the surprise on my face because she immediately seems to regret it, grimacing and looking away.

"Sorry. I'm tired and hungover. I never meant to-" she cuts herself off with a sigh, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment as though to clear her head.

"Don't worry about it, I am too." I reply quickly. I know she was a bit more drunk than me, so she must be having a harder time, and getting bombarded with questions and unnecessary apologies is definitely not helping. "Sorry, I just thought there might be something else."

She looks up at me, although doesn't quite meet my eyes, tucking a couple loose strands of hair behind her ear. I've learned that she puts it in a braid when she sleeps, and when she gets up it's all loose and short pieces fall out to hang around her face. It's one of her best looks in my opinion, although I'm sure she disagrees.

"Nope, just being grumpy." She admits, although she does say it with a slight smile that reassures me somewhat.

"Didn't know you had it in you." I tease. She glances at me questioningly. "To be grumpy."

She lets out a huff of air that I think is supposed to be a laugh. It's not a complete joke though. Since I've known her she's been nothing but easy-going and smiley, it honestly never occurred to me that she had a sour side. In saying that, if this is her 'sour side' then it's still infinitely more pleasant than anyone else's. It's like she just has this way about her that strives to make people feel comfortable despite whatever mood she's in.

"If you ever spend any time with my sister you'd see it runs in the family." She says. "Plus, I'm starting to feel the hangover now. So... I'm sorry in advance."

"Uh huh, I'm sure you're a nightmare." I joke. Clearly she has trouble grasping what level of irritability actually classifies as being angry, and her attitude right now is definitely not that. Not even difficult really. "So, just to be clear," I start and she rolls her eyes, making me smirk, "You're not mad about the kiss?"

"No, Stanley. Like I said, we were drunk." She says. Then she shrugs, looking at me out of the corner of her eye. "Plus... it was a good kiss."

I grin at the way the statement holds no embarrassment at all, but then, it's rare for her to be embarrassed about anything she says. "So I see that you've obviously remembered the most important parts of the evening."

She waves a hand lazily, as though dismissing me. "I actually didn't forget much. Sure there's a gap here and there but overall-" she suddenly freezes mid sentence, her eyes widening at what must be her suddenly remembering something.

"What?" I ask.

Riley groans and lowers her head into her hands, grimacing. I furrow my eyebrows, concerned until she shakes her head. She lets out a hard sigh. "I said something I shouldn't have and- oh my God, Maren is gonna hate me." She finally lifts her head and pushes herself off the rail, taking a deep breath.

Although I know Maren is perfectly capable of hating someone, the idea of her hating her best friend is a little far fetched, even for her standards. It's also hard to imagine Riley saying anything to evoke hatred in anybody, ever.

I catch a laugh in my throat as she starts to pace slowly on the wooden space that is honestly way too small to be paced on, noticing that she clearly doesn't think the idea is so ridiculous.

"What'd you say to her?" Despite wanting to comfort her, I am a bit curious.

"Sorry, it's confidential." She says quickly. I almost roll my eyes at myself for thinking she would actually want it to be public knowledge. Probably something about 'sisters before misters' or whatever. She doesn't even look at me, just turning slowly on her heel and ambling in the other direction. "It's just... she wasn't ready for-" she cuts herself off. "Never mind."

"Hey, I'm sure she won't hate you." I try. I've never seen her so stressed, and it's stressing me out but I try to look relaxed for her sake, casually leaning my side into the rail so I can face her. She turns again, arms swinging around until she starts her slow progress back in my direction, her eyes pointed up at the roof above us. I have a feeling my words didn't help at all. "She's not going to hate you." I state, firmer.

"Yeah." She breaths, but it doesn't sound as much like an agreement as it does an acknowledgment. "I know." Her voice is more certain this time, but also quiet, like she's saying it to herself instead.

"Trust me, whatever you said could not have been that bad." I say for what it's worth, which is probably nothing. But her pacing has become somehow less remorseful now, so at least I think that's a good thing. I raise my eyebrows at her as she turns and faces me once more. "Now get back over here before your marching wakes everyone up."

She rolls her eyes (something I've seen her do more in the last two minutes than the entire time I've known her) but doesn't debate coming back to the rail, leaning her elbows into the imprints she made before she had her tiny panic attack.

"So... you came out here because you couldn't sleep?" I ask after a bit. I see her eyebrows furrow slightly. It's unusually tame for one of her expressions, but I'll take it. "I'm having trouble seeing how, you know..." I flick some snow from the rail at her and it lands on her sleeve, "this would help."

"I guess it doesn't really." She admits. "But I haven't slept good the past few nights anyway, so what's one more?"

I can tell she's unconcerned with the predicament, or even bordering on annoyed, but I'm curious. "Why haven't you been sleeping?" I ask. "Been out late with that Trey guy?"

It's a joke. I mean, obviously it's a joke because there's no way she could have been doing that in the first place, especially considering she didn't even know he was out here until last night. So despite all this, I'm not really sure why a slight bitterness creeps into my tone.

She gasps quietly. "How did you know?" I laugh and she smiles. It's close-mouthed and small, but it's there. "No, it's just that I kind of have a thing with routine, and when something changes it throws everything off for a little bit."

Initially I find it weird because she had never seemed like the type of person to be bothered by small things. But then it starts to make sense, because her bookshelf is categorized and her math notes are always separated into tidy blocks with straight lines and she listens to the same songs on repeat and... a lot of other things.

For a moment I pause. When I did I learn this much about her?

"Anyway, so I just came out for a change of scenery I guess." She says. "And it's quieter out here. Good place to take a break."

I nod along slowly until I realize that she may have intended to take her break alone and that may have been a hint to get me to leave. I push myself off the rail and she looks at me questioningly as I dust the snow off my sleeves, backing up towards the door. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt anything." I clear my throat, pointing behind me. "I'll go back inside so you can-"

She puts a hand on my arm and I stop talking, deciding to look at her. She's finally looking in my eyes. They're apologetic, even though I'm not sure why. I'm the one who interrupted her break after all. "I didn't mean it like that." She mutters, sounding disappointed, and I know the tone is directed at herself. "I needed a break from trying to get to sleep. You're fine out here, if... you know..." she shrugs, looking down at her hand on my arm before she lets it drop quickly, probably only noticing now that she's touching me. "Unless you want to go back inside, because it's cold and you're probably tired-"

I catch her hand before she can pull it away completely and squeeze it as a reassurance, the contact strangely feeling beyond normal. "I couldn't sleep either." I say, even though I know I could easily fall back to sleep if I tried. I go back to the rail and lean my hip into it so I can face her. Bringing my other hand to cup around her cold one, I feel her fingers warming up by the second. "How long have you been out here?"

She seems to accept my staying and takes a moment to think about the question. "Probably fifteen minutes. Maybe a little more."

"Fifteen minutes without a jacket, no wonder you're freezing." I mutter, suddenly finding her grumpiness less concerning in comparison to hypothermia. "You do know it's like, minus fifteen, right?" I say, even though I'm not completely sure of the temperature. It feels cold and I'm trying to make a point so it can be minus fifteen if I want it to be.

"Only with the wind chill. And we're sheltered here so really it's only like, minus ten." She reasons, clearly not as concerned as me. "Why does everyone always seem to know the exact temperature anyway?"

"Well you see, Pierce," I gesture for her other hand and she gives it to me. I put on my most casual voice and raise my eyebrows at her. "I've always been very interested in the weather. It's one of my greatest passions." Continuing to rub her hand between mine, I complete the statement with a dead serious nod.

Riley doesn't smile right away, taking a moment to shake her head before looking up at me in amused confusion. "You're..." She rolls her eyes and catches her bottom lip between her teeth. Knowing she'll crack any moment now, I raise my eyebrows expectantly for an answer until her eyes find mine again. The corner of her mouth pulls up. "So weird." She finishes. I drop my expression into a deadpan and she breaths out the first real laugh I've heard from her since I came out here.

"Whatever, Miss ice-for-hands." I wrinkle my nose at her, finding it difficult to keep up an offended ruse when I'm so relieved to see her usual personality returning, even if it is a little less vibrant than usual. I lift my arm, creating a Riley-sized empty space by my side, looking her pointedly. "Now come here before you freeze to death." She doesn't put up a fight at all, barely even hesitating to lean into the space, my arm falling over her shoulders and pulling her snug to me.

We're both silent for a minute, just watching the still scene that lays out below us. It's her voice that breaks the quiet. "You're a good guy, Stanley."

Again, the guilty feeling nags at me like it did at the lodge earlier when she said those same words. Although it's a little worse now because I know she's sober enough to mean them. "I'm not that good. And you don't have to keep saying that, you know."

"I said it before?"

I smirk and squeeze her shoulder. "Looks like we've found a memory gap."

"Oh whatever." She rolls her eyes. "But, you are." She insists.

"How would you know?" I challenge lightly.

"Because you are." She says like it's obvious. Then her voice gets a little quieter, and she softly adds, "Because I know you didn't stay out here 'cause you couldn't get back to sleep." I feel her fingers lace with mine where it's hung around her shoulders. She squeezes my hand once before she drops hers in her pocket again, her head coming to rest on my shoulder.

And I don't really know what comes over me then, but I lean down and press my lips to the top of her head for a moment. She doesn't startle or show any surprise, and neither do I. It was only a friendly gesture after all.

Friends, I think. The word sounds weird even in my head. But then I think that it's okay, because I'm out here with her and it's peaceful and nice and calm and... friends is good enough right now. Friends is great.

John

The kitchen is an oddly peaceful place when I walk in, especially considering who's in it. Joseph is leaned against the counter, facing Stanley, who's leaned against the island across from him, nursing a mug which I assume is full of coffee. He's probably on his third cup.

When I enter, Joseph grins in a way that makes me squint a little, because people really shouldn't be that happy in the morning, and I really shouldn't have a headache this bad.

"Good morning, Sunshine." He greets sarcastically. I only prove his point by rolling my eyes as Stanley let's out a sort of grunt-like chuckle into his mug. Joseph slides a mug toward me, the coffee inside nearly sloshing over the rim as it comes to a stop.

"How long has that been poured up for?" I ask.

He just shrugs cheerfully. "Not long. It's probably the perfect temperature now."

I pick it up and lean against the counter next to him, bringing the mug to my mouth and taking a sip. It's not as warm as I usually have it, but I'm not going to be picky. "Thanks."

He nods and I look out the large windows at the lightening sky. I'm suddenly thankful for the late sunrise, because the aspirin I took earlier will be long kicked in by the time any real light fills the sky. Suddenly my eyebrows furrow as I note the weird lack of people in the room, and I glance at the time to see it's half past six.

"Are the girls up yet?" I ask.

Stanley's voice is a bit scratchy when he speaks. "Yeah, Riley said earlier that she was going to the store, and either Maren or Marina is in the shower."

I nod, taking a sip from my mug and internally cringing at the taste of black coffee before glancing at Stanley curiously. "How early were you up?"

He shrugs. "I don't know, around four. I came down to get some water and Riley turned out to be awake too."

"Oh, cool." Joseph says. He crosses his arms and watches Stanley for a moment, who obliviously drinks his coffee. "So... what did you guys do?"

Stanley stops drinking mid-sip, his wrist stilled and eyes sparing a questioning glance over the rim of his mug. He puts it down and narrows his eyes at Joseph's suspicious look. "Talked?" He raises an eyebrow. "What else would we do?"

Joseph and I look at each other out of the corners of our eyes, apparently both of us aware of what happened between the two of them last night. Stanley seems to see our disbelieving looks and decides to drop the act, sighing at us in a way that's almost chiding.

"So what? You guys had nothing better to do last night than spy on us?" He accuses tiredly.

"Of course not." Joseph scoffs, then helpfully adds, "Marina had nothing better to do than spy on you. She told me."

I raise a hand. "Me too."

"What? How'd she know?" He groans.

"Girls know everything, dude. Trust me." Joseph says wisely. He pushes himself up so he's sitting on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth. "Anyway, I'm happy for you. I mean, Riley's a really nice girl-"

"Hey," Stanley holds up a finger, pointing it threateningly at Joseph. "We're not dating."

Joseph's feet stop their swinging and even I have to momentarily stop sipping my coffee. As his mouth opens and his mind works, he looks a genuine mix of disappointment and confusion. "But... you guys, you know. And..." he gives up trying to form a sentence and settles for cocking his head to the side with furrowed eyebrows.

Regaining some comfort in the situation, Stanley picks up his mug again, nodding while he takes a sip. "Yeah, we kissed. It doesn't mean it meant anything."

Again, Joseph looks genuinely shocked, whereas my surprise started declining the moment it came, because making out with someone and then ignoring it completely is a very 'Stanley' move. He just hasn't done it in a few months now. I almost forgot it was a thing.

"You can't just kiss someone and have it mean nothing." Joseph argues.

"Yeah you can."

"No you can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it... that's... ugh-!" Joseph huffs, resembling a whiny child. "It's just not the way it works!" Joseph smacks my arm, and I might jump in surprise if I wasn't so tired. "Right, John?"

I shake my head. "I'm not picking a side."

Stanley smiles smugly. Joseph groans. "Can you not be diplomatic for just a second of your life?"

I roll my eyes and take a sip out of my mug while they both look at me in challenge. I raise my eyebrows for a moment in resistance, but after an extended silence I finally sigh.

"Okay, fine." I put my coffee down on the counter as Stanley sarcastically mutters something along the lines of "he put down the mug, he's serious now", to which I shake my head at. "I agree that usually when you kiss someone you should feel something."

Joseph grins. "See? Told you-"

"But..." I continue, ignoring Joseph's exaggerated groan, "This is Stanley we're talking about, and I'm assuming both of you were drunk." Joseph begrudgingly nods in agreement while I shrug.

Stanley holds up a finger in protest. "First of all, that was still diplomatic as shit."

"You don't even know what diplomatic means-"

"Second," He cuts me off with a stern look, "you make me sound like an insensitive jerk and I'm offended."

We're all silent for a few moments as Stanley gives us both chiding looks. Eventually Joseph furrows his eyebrows. "But you are an insensitive jerk."

"Only sometimes." He dismisses easily. He shakes his head. "But not this time. I wouldn't do that to her." Something weird strikes me about his sentence, but before I can ask what makes Riley different from everyone else he's done it to, he moves on. "Besides, she feels the same way. We already talked about it."

"Really?" Joseph asks.

Stanley nods. "Yeah. She was acting different this morning so I wanted to make sure she was good with it."

"Hmm..." I watch him suspiciously, crossing my arms. He mirrors the gesture mockingly. "That's... oddly thoughtful of you." I uncross my arms to pick up my coffee again and he tips his toward me in a gesture of acknowledgment.

"Compliment taken, insult ignored."

That seems to end the conversation, Stanley and I taking a long sip of coffee at the same time while Joseph just pouts next to me, probably bummed about the failed relationship opportunity. I just look out the large windows on the opposite wall, looking at the slowly lightening sky above the bare birch trees outside. It's still dim enough not to strengthen my headache, but that will only last for another hour or so, so I appreciate it for now.

"Wait..." Joseph says suddenly. We look at him. "If Marina knows about you guys... does Maren too?"

To his credit, Stanley doesn't look as scared as he should, his hesitation only shown in his slightly widening eyes of realization. Still, I'm glad I'm not in his position.

As if on cue, footsteps sound down the hall. We all send worried looks at each other as we await which of the girls will come around the corner, and Stanley no doubt hoping it's anyone but the one who hates him the most. After moment of tense silence, none other than Maren emerges, already dressed and ready to go. She still looks tired, standing there for a moment before muttering a cheerless "hey" of greeting. I'm already taking a mug down from the cupboard and moving out of way before she comes to the coffee machine, offering it to her with a wary glance. Thankfully she doesn't notice.

"Good morning, Maren." Joseph greets with a smile.

"Yeah." She replies distractedly, pouring up her coffee. In an equally flat tone, she asks, "Why are you sitting on the counter?"

"Um..." Joseph looks down at himself, clearly taking careful deliberation in his response. "No reason in particular I guess."

Maren hums, her eyebrows raising in quick acknowledgment. "Interesting."

Joseph looks at me at her tone, which clearly displayed that her opinion of his answer was the complete opposite of what she said. He shakes his head in defeat, obviously at a loss of what to say to her to get her to like him. Maybe he should try talking to her later in the day.

She finishes pouring up her coffee, turning to be met with a smiling Stanley. He tips his cup toward her. "Morning, Sweetheart."

She responds scarily fast, an edge to her voice. "Don't even talk to me this morning. Or ever again, I don't care." She presses her lips together, as though physically stopping herself from saying more. She takes several breaths, lets out half-sigh half-growl, and squeezes her eyes shut. "I can't even look at you." Shaking her head, she quickly leaves the kitchen in favour for sitting at the table with her coffee, choosing to face the windows instead of us.

Joseph leans toward Stanley. "I think she knows." He whispers.

"Yeah, no shit." Stanley mutters.

Marina is next into the kitchen, her greeting much more friendly than Maren's was. She doesn't get a coffee this morning, instead just walking by to pass on a hushed warning to Stanley about Maren's attitude. The caution is too late, but at least she put in an effort.

"So, what time are we leaving?" Joseph asks as Marina walks over to the table, probably the only one in the room not frightened of the grumpy girl she chooses to sit across from.

"Too early." Maren mutters, even though the question wasn't directed at her.

Marina rolls her eyes and looks around Maren at the rest of us. "Riley said eight last night, but I don't think she was exactly thinking straight." She shrugs, glancing behind her at the couch. She looks away but has to immediately do a double take when she sees the folded blankets in place of where she thought her sleeping friend would be. "Um, where is Riley?"

Joseph and I look at Stanley, who nervously glances at Maren before answering. "At the store."

Predictably, Maren is the next to speak up. "Of course you would know." She doesn't even turn around, but I can tell she's scowling. I can see Marina shoot her a warning look, which she obviously doesn't care about judging by her next words. "Although I don't know when she would have had the chance to tell you considering how occupied you both seemed to be last night."

She takes a sip of her coffee while Marina quietly mutters to her in a way that sounds chiding, not that she could care less. Stanley just defeatedly stares at the back of Maren's head. I feel bad for him. He can't deny what happened, and there probably no excuse that she will accept. It's a pretty hard position to be in.

"Well," Joseph says lightly, "at least now we know she knows about it."

Stanley shoots him a look that could probably cause a small plant to wither, making him put his hands up and scoot a couple inches away on the counter. He sighs and looks back at the table. "You'll be happy to know we're not dating."

Maren hums in pleasant surprise. "You're right, that does make me pretty happy."

I stifle a laugh when Stanley makes a face and mocks a really quiet, "of course it does" in a high-pitched voice. It's not at a low enough volume that Maren wouldn't be able to hear, but she must choose to ignore it because no snarky comments come from her.

Joseph hops off the counter and ambles over to the kitchen table with a grin. "Aw, look at you two being civil." He puts a hand on Maren's shoulder and gives it a squeeze. I see Marina look down to hide a smile at what must be a harsh expression on Maren's face. She barely tolerates his touchiness at regular hours, let alone at 7:30 in the morning.

"Joseph," She says slowly. Her voice is still scratchy from sleep, but somehow she makes it sound intimidating. "I'm going to count to three."

He looks down at his hand still on her shoulder, confused. "What happens at three?"

"One-"

Joseph pulls his hand back as though he'd been burned, quickly retreating to Marina's side of the table, who I can see is struggling not to laugh. Maren just goes back to sipping her coffee as though nothing happened.

I hear the door opening and everyone immediately turns in the direction of the sound, even though there's no view of the door from the table. I stand from the counter and look around the corner just as Riley puts down a plastic bag. She looks up and smiles, waving.

"Good morning. Want some coffee?" I ask her.

"Oh, no that's cool. I got one." She holds up a small Tim Hortons cup while she struggles to take off her boots, nearly falling multiple times before she finally gets them off with a sigh.

Assuming she won't hurt herself trying to get off her coat, I head to the table and take a seat at the head of the table, making sure there's at least one chair length between Maren and I. Even though she's not mad at me, I'm not sure I want to be anywhere in hitting distance when she's mad at all. Stanley doesn't even bother coming near the table. It's probably for the best.

"Where were you?" Marina calls as we hear Riley's footsteps come up the hall.

"Oh I went to the store, got a coffee, got some gas..." she emerges from the hall carrying the plastic bag she came in with. "And Maren, I got something for you." She wiggles the bag in the air even though Maren isn't looking at her. Instead, Maren chooses to glance at an amused Marina for affirmation that she heard her name.

Marina doesn't even have time to give her an answer before Riley comes from behind and drops the bag in front of her. "Ta da!"

"Oh wow." Maren raises her eyebrows in mock excitement. "I've always wanted a plastic bag."

Riley rolls her eyes with a faux sigh before putting her forearms on Maren's shoulders and leaning into them, completely ignoring her personal space bubble. Joseph shoots me a look, probably offended that she's not giving Riley a three second warning to get off of her.

"Ha ha, we get it, you're witty and hilarious." She even goes as far as resting her chin on the top of Maren's head. "Please open the plastic bag."

Maren lets out a quiet huff, like the prospect of taking something out of a bag is obviously too much work, but she puts down her coffee anyway so she can reach for the bag. There's the crinkling of plastic for a moment before she pulls out two CD cases.

"Really, R? Your gift to me is more annoying music?"

"No..." Riley smiles, not even thrown off slightly by her prickly attitude. "Look-" she reaches forward and flips one of the cases over so Maren can see the front, "it's modern music. You know, because you hate the old stuff. That one is the twenty seventeen Grammy winners and the other on is all kinds of hits from twenty eighteen. There's like thirty songs on it."

Maren looks at the cases, raising her eyebrows. The expression isn't sarcastic though, just pleasantly surprised. "Oh." She says, nodding. "Well, thanks."

"No prob." Riley says cheerfully, kind of seeming like a puppy praised for doing something right. I reach across the table and gingerly take a case from Maren's hand so I can examine it. She doesn't seem to mind.

"So wait..." Stanley still stands by the counter, now furrowing his eyebrows in this direction. "Why is she the only one who got a present?"

"Because," Riley starts matter-of-factly, "she's the only one who complained about the music on the way out." Maren nods along to her reasoning, in no position to argue. Then Riley lowers her voice just a little, her smile turning guilty. "And I want to apologize for something I said last night while under the influence of alcohol."

Maren's raised eyebrows of appreciation suddenly turn into a look of warning, and even though Riley can't see it, I have a feeling she knows it's there. "Riley..." Maren's voice is low and has a tone to it that most people wouldn't argue with. Apparently Riley isn't one of those people.

"No, I just want you to know that I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say what I did, and I will never bring it up again without your permission." She nods, satisfied with her apology, especially when Maren doesn't say anything back, meaning she accepted it. "Even though I do still think it's kind of true." Riley adds in a quick whisper.

She steps away before Maren can properly react, wearing a sheepish grin as she backs away. Even though I don't know what happened between them last night, it is pretty funny to see Maren's reaction, which consists of a glare at the wall and a huff. It must have been something embarrassing.

"I'll kill you." She calls to Riley's retreating figure.

"No you won't. There's too many witnesses."

Maren raises a thoughtful eyebrow. "Who says I have to do it now?" Joseph chuckles at her threat and I can't hold back a smile, even though she seems completely serious. She shrugs innocently, not even glancing back. "Maybe I'll do it when you least expect it."

"Well now I'm terrified. Thanks for that."

"No prob." Maren says, mocking Riley's reply from earlier. Even Riley laughs this time, not helping her case in the least. Maren shakes her head, apparently disappointed. "Am I getting less scary or something? What is it?"

Joseph tentatively raises his hand. "I still think you're scary."

"Me too." I agree.

She looks at Marina for an opinion, who makes a 'so-so' gesture, making Maren roll her eyes before getting up to put her empty cup in the sink. Riley quickly says she needs to go pack her stuff into the van and escapes before Maren can get close, which is probably a wise move.

"So what'd she say anyway?" I ask after she's gone. Maren seems to freeze for just a second, and I raise an eyebrow curiously. But as fast as her hesitation shows, she's right back to carrying on normally and I almost think I imagined it.

"Nothing too bad." She replies vaguely.

"It's Riley." Stanley points out with an eye roll. "Of course it can't be anything too bad."

Maren doesn't seem amused. "Well now that you're interested, nobody will ever know." She puts her cup in the sink and smiles sarcastically. She then leaves the kitchen and disappears down the hall, I assume to go to her room.

Joseph sighs in disappointment and so does Stanley. I really don't care all that much and didn't expect her to give anymore than a cryptic answer anyway, but apparently both of them were holding onto hope. But then Joseph's eyes light up and he slowly looks at Marina.

"You wouldn't happen to know-"

"Not a clue." She stands from the table and carries her cup to the counter, obviously avoiding the question.

"You're lying." Joseph accuses.

"Am I?"

"Yes!"

Marina just shrugs innocently and follows Maren's path down the hallway, leaving Joseph to scoff. I chuckle at him and sip my coffee.

Stanley shakes his head. "Chicks, man."

Marina

"Okay, so I have shirts, pants, snow suit, socks, underwear, boots, sweaters, and gloves. Is there anything I'm missing?" Joseph looks through his bag as he talks, affirming the inclusion of each item as he lists them out. He looks over his shoulder at me to where I'm getting my boots on by the door, prompting me to answer.

"Hat, tooth brush, shampoo, soap...?" I trail off and shrug, knowing I've found a few holes in his packing job by the way his eyes leave mine, staring into a random direction in thought.

He takes a breath in and holds up a finger. "Alright, I'm not saying I forgot those things, because I didn't-"

"Obviously."

"-but I will go double check." He glances up the stairs, "You know, just to be safe."

Joseph rushes back up the steps while I shake my head in amusement, picking my bag up off the floor. I think Stanley and John are still upstairs finishing their packing too, but Riley has been making trips up and down the steps for the past ten minutes with the stuff that's ready to go. Maren tried to help but Riley wouldn't let her considering she's sporting a more noticeable limp this morning than yesterday. Now all that's left to do is bring down is the guys' stuff and one of my bags, which I'm holding now. Thankfully it's the light one.

The partially salted stairs greet me when I step out onto the deck, and I find myself holding my breath for most of the way down without even realizing it. It's a relief when I get to the bottom, although I do get tad concerned again when I hear the arguing voices of Maren and Riley behind her vehicle. Well, really it's just Maren arguing and Riley uneasily agreeing.

"We are never speaking of that again."

"Okay."

"I'm serious. I don't care if you think it's true, don't mention it."

"Okay."

"Ever."

"Okay."

I round the corner of the van, where Maren is leaning her shoulder on one side of the open hatchback, watching Riley load one of my suitcases into the back. Okay I'll admit, maybe I packed a little too much stuff, but I'll never tell that to Maren.

"Never speaking of what again?" I ask.

Maren barely even acknowledges my presence, but Riley looks at me with a smile of greeting. "That thing that I apologized for this morning, which was supposedly forgiven." She sends a pointed look to Maren, who couldn't be less affected.

"I did not say you were forgiven, and I will be bitter as long as I want." She crosses her arms as though it adds to her stubbornness.

"Okay." Riley repeats. She takes my bag from me, humming as she places it in one of the few remaining open places in the back. "You never denied it though..."

I stifle a laugh but can't help a grin as Maren glares at Riley so threateningly she can probably feel it burning into her. Riley chances a look at her, and actually giggles at the expression, making me chuckle too.

"If I had two good legs-"

"I'd be dead, I know." Riley finishes for her, seeming unbothered by the threat as she turns and sits on the back of the van now that's there's no more bags to load into it. "Are the guys still inside?" She asks me, wisely changing the subject.

"Yeah. Last minute packing I think." I shrug, but then look at Maren with raised eyebrows. "Speaking of which-" I point at her, "Joseph thinks you hate him."

Riley bursts out laughing at what must be the most 'Maren' problem to ever exist. The amount of people that Maren has made an enemy out of just for saying what's on her mind is probably too many to count. It's not like she just goes around insulting people though. It's always for a reason, like someone insulted her or someone else, or someone started a rumour they shouldn't have. She's even stood up for complete strangers before so it's really not a bad thing at all, especially since she couldn't care less about who likes her and who doesn't. Really, she's kind of like a really sarcastic do-gooder.

To say Maren's unconcerned would be an understatement. She actually smiles for the first time today, arching an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

I stifle a laugh at her reaction. "Why do you seem proud?"

"She's Maren, why do you think?" Riley points out.

Maren rolls her eyes but doesn't deny anything. "Anyway, so he thinks I hate him." She states. I nod affirmingly and she shrugs, radiating the littlest amount of concern felt by anyone ever. "Why?"

"You don't laugh at his jokes." I explain in mock solemnness, like this is actually a serious problem.

She chuckles. "Well, they're not funny."

"I think they are." Riley says.

"You don't count." Maren waves her off. "Anyway, what am I supposed to do? Fake laugh at bad jokes?" She asks, although it's clear by her uninterested tone that she won't be doing any such thing.

"No, of course not." I say. "You have a terrible fake laugh."

Maren rolls her eyes but doesn't argue because she knows it's true. Luckily, she usually doesn't care enough to act like something that's boring is actually funny. She prefers to tell it like it is, which is why she's never gotten a lot of practice in the fake laugh department.

"So what do you want me to do?"

"I don't want you to do anything. Please don't do anything." I say, a little on edge when she arches an eyebrow, making me think she will do something. "I just thought it'd be interesting for you to know."

Maren just lifts a shoulder in a shrug. "A lot of people think I hate them already, it's just another one on the list."

"Aren't you just a bright ray of sunshine?" Riley chuckles, making Maren smirk like it was a compliment. "Look, Joseph just needs to understand that that's how you are. If you were nice all the time it would just be creepy." She gets a thoughtful look on her face. "It'd be like if you acted like me all the time."

Maren looks at something in the distance for a moment, probably imagining the scenario. Then she shakes her head. "Yeah, don't even say that. Like, ever."

Riley would usually laugh, but she just smiles right now, too bright and too big, like when she gave Maren the CDs. It looks nervous. "Well, Since you clearly have such a high opinion of me already, it may be time to ask for a favour..."

Maren is immediately skeptical, Riley's expression doing nothing to make the favour seem good. "What is it?" She asks.

"Well really, it could be seen as more of a gift instead of a favour-"

"What is it?" Maren repeats. Riley takes in a breath and reaches into her hoodie pocket, producing the keys to her van. Maren's eyes widen as she gets the idea. "No."

"Please-"

"No! The only thing keeping that van running is hope and a spare tire and I am not driving." She crosses her arms, raising her eyebrows sternly at Riley.

"But-"

"No."

"Maren-"

"No."

"Stop." Rhiley whines, prolonging the vowel sound to make it extra pitiful. Maren just rolls her eyes. "Look, I'm sorry but I really need you to drive."

"Fine, I'll drive." Maren says. Riley is visibly taken aback by the agreement, eyebrows furrowing in immediate confusion and leaning back as though to examine her better. I might be just as shocked too if I didn't have a suspicion that Maren has an underlying request. "If you give me a good reason."

"And there it is." I chuckle. Maren just looks at me and shrugs nonchalantly, like she's fine with being predictably difficult.

Meanwhile, Riley has committed to quite the dramatic sigh after Maren's request. She looks at her again for a long moment, as though making sure she's really not going to change her mind. Clearly she's not.

"Fine." Riley groans. "I'm going to tell you guys something, and you have to promise not to be all concerned and stuff." She glances at me as she says it and I roll my eyes at her very non-discrete way of directing the warning at me. Slightly offended, but seeing her point, I make a gesture for her to go on. "So the thing is... I'm kind of impaired."

Even though there's twenty different questions concerning her health running through my mind, I suppress my immediate reaction to make sure she's fine since she literally just told me not to do it. Plus, she seems like the epitome of unconcerned right now so logically I know it's probably minor. But on the inside I kind of hope Maren asks her what I want to.

Maren, more serious now, just blinks at Riley with furrowed eyebrows, and I know immediately she's more upset about Riley having a legitimate reason to get her to drive than she is concerned about her health. "What do you mean? How?" The question isn't what I would've asked, but it satisfies some of my concerns all the same.

"Well, alcohol is a depressant and I'm on antidepressants." She makes a hand gesture, joining her fingers together and taking them apart just as quickly. "I'm not really supposed to mix them-"

"Are you going to be okay?" I ask, forgetting about her request to keep quiet.

She sends me a pointed look, "-but it's fine because I've done it before and it just makes me drowsy." She smirks when I roll my eyes, holding the keys in front of Maren once again. "And just a warning, I've barely slept since we've been out here so I would probably fall asleep at the wheel anyway, with or without the alcohol."

Besides a huff of displeasure, Maren takes the keys without argument, muttering something about "stupid, legitimate reasons" as she disappears around the side of the van to get a head start getting in.

"You know, I could have driven." I say.

"No." Riley's response comes so quick I'm offended for a moment, because if anybody has a right to judge another persons driving skills it would not be her. But then she continues with a smirk. "You need to keep Joseph company."

Usually I would roll my eyes, but this morning I kind of have questions about her feelings for a certain member of the group. I let out a hum of thought. "Does that mean you have to keep Stanley company?"

I'm pleased for a moment as her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. But she's not embarrassed and it quickly washes away into a teasing look which consists of an arched eyebrow and a slightly mischievous smile. "So you saw then." She states matter-of-factly. She crosses her arms, pleased at my interest and probably thinking I know a lot less than I do. "And now you have questions... Are we dating now? Was it a one time thing? Will it happen again?" She shrugs with a fake nonchalance that only comes when she's pretending there's something to hide. "... Maybe."

"Maybe to all three?" Maren's voice comes from the front of the vehicle, apparently having made fast progress getting to the drivers seat. "Because that makes no sense."

"Oh be quiet! I'm trying to be mysterious." Riley yells back.

"Well you're sucking at it."

"Well you suck at snowboarding, so ha."

Maren's rare silence after Riley's retort makes me laugh, especially when Riley breaks her offended ruse to look behind her in surprise. She sends me a confused glance.

"Stanley already told us you guys aren't dating." Maren calls, voice smug from leading Riley into a false sense of victory.

"Oh come on." Riley throws up her hands and dramatically falls against the wall of luggage behind her in disappointment. "I was going to leave you guys hanging for the entire trip."

"And here I was thinking Maren was the mean one." I tease.

"Hey!" Maren's voice is sharp with offence. "I am the mean one. And don't you forget it."

"Believe me, we won't." Riley says, a laugh and her voice. Maren seems pleased with that and stays silent while I look at Riley seriously again. She narrows her eyes at me before letting out some high-pitched, groaning sound that I'm assuming is supposed to voice her irritation. "What now?"

I just smile at her dramatics. "You know we're going to need to have a conversation about this, right?"

She knows immediately that we're back on the topic of her and Stanley without me having to explain it to her, and sighs out a reluctant "Yeah", wrinkling her nose at me. "Just so you know, it's going to be a very uneventful conversation. Quite boring really."

We both turn as we hear a door open, and the guys come into view at the railing of the deck, loaded down with bags and leftover cases of beer. Joseph is gesturing widely about something while John locks the door, Stanley just deciding to start down the stairs without either of them.

Riley smirks at me. "And the conversation is officially rescheduled to a later date."

"You can't avoid it forever." I warn.

"Oh, but I can try."

As suspected, Stanley comes around the corner first, smirking and greeting us with his usual "Hey, Ladies" before placing his beer in one of the only spots left and literally throwing his bags and snowboard in afterwards. I hope there's nothing delicate in there. When he leaves to get in the van Riley quickly follows, probably imagining the horrors that could happen with Stanley and Maren in the same vehicle with no buffer.

John and Joseph are next, who give me a much more normal greeting than Stanley. They pause before loading their bags in, taking in the already packed hatchback with a look that sits somewhere between complication and fear.

"Um, yeah..." I press my lips together as I try to come up with a solution. "I think if you can stuff it up at the top somewhere that would work." I suggest.

John nods and lifts his bag to the small space still left between the rest of the luggage and the roof of the van. After a couple pushes and near slip, he finally manages to get it in, leaving hardly any room for Joseph's stuff.

John smiles apologetically but doesn't seem in the mood to change it, just patting Joseph on the shoulder. "Good luck, dude."

He walks away after that, leaving Joseph to contemplate his options for a moment before apparently giving up and sending me a helpless look. I laugh and step beside him so I can get a better view of the unorganized mountain of baggage that we somehow managed to fit in the vehicle.

"Is it just me, or do we have more now then we did coming out?" He asks, tilting his head.

I press my lips together, at a loss. "It does look that way."

We both spend another moment of looking at it in confused silence until he takes a breath and holds his bag high like John did. He tries to stuff it in next to John's, pushing it until his feet nearly slip out from under him, only to have it fall the moment he steps back.

"Ugh, you loser." He mutters as his bag indents itself into the slushy ice on the ground, the top layer already beginning to melt from the morning sun. I manage to stifle a laugh as he sighs, but he sees me smile, turning defensive. "What? It's stressful!"

Shaking my head, I just watch the army green suitcase starts to darken at the bottom. I picture the contents getting wet, but Joseph doesn't seem to care. "You called it a loser." I resist a chuckle.

"Well, it deserved it." He mumbles, making me laugh.

He grins and laces our fingers together. Strangely he's not wearing gloves, and his hands are warm even though he has to be cold in his unzipped jacket. He's not wearing a hat either so I assume there was some rushing going on. He lifts our joined hands and briefly presses his lips to the back of mine before squeezing lightly and letting go to grab his bag. When we just started dating, the fleeting gesture would've made my heart leap, but now a warm fond feeling fills the space nerves once used to be. It's nice I think, how things that used to be new become habits after while. It's a different kind of feeling; slowly becoming apart of another person's habits. It's comforting.

Meanwhile, Joseph is picking his bag up from the wet ground, muttering something that I can't hear but amuses me anyway. I shake my head as he lifts and tries the exact same tactic as last time.

"Do you think that's going to work the second time?"

"Ah, you see, your Majesty, I actually have a different plan." He assures, breathing slightly laboured from his struggle. I just take a few steps back and watch, not completely confident in his so-called 'plan', but willing to be a witness if it happens to fail. He pushes the bag until he's in a little bit of an awkward position, one hand keeping pressure on the bag while reaching one arm back in position to grab the hatch.

I begin to get concerned, furrowing my eyebrows. "Um, what are you-"

I'm cut off by a flash of movement, in which he lets go of the bag, turns, and slips out from under the door just as he slams it shut on his falling luggage. "Ha!" He shouts, throwing his arms out in celebration. When he spins to face me I can see he's smiling smugly. "That's how-"

A click makes him check behind him just as the trunk pops open once again. He feverishly jumps to close it once more, nearly slamming into the thing with his hands stretched out. It closes again and he turns around with his back pressed against it, making sure it doesn't pop open again. He takes a moment to breath before looking at me again, but he's far from smug now.

"What kind of van is this?" He exclaims.

I break into a laugh and he grins too before shaking his head with a chuckle. Cautiously, he presses a hand to the hatch, slowly moving away with a watchful eye. He only lets it go when he's sure it won't open again.

"Come on." He gestures to the door, throwing a dirty look at the back of the vehicle. "Before something else breaks."

I follow him to the back door, where he manages to slide the back door open with only some struggle. We climb in the back, squeezing into the seats, the luggage pressing against one side of Joseph while the wall on my side forces me to to be closer to him than we would normally sit. Practically squeezed together actually. But considering the circumstances, I guess I don't mind.

"Wait, why are you driving?" It's Stanley that voices the question, seeming to forget Maren's current escalated hatred toward him.

"Because Riley is tired and hungover." She explains shortly.

I seriously hope Stanley leaves it at that for his own sake, but of course he doesn't. "Isn't your knee jacked up though?"

"Yes, I actually forgot about that." Her voice drips with sarcasm. "Thank God I know how to drive with my right leg or we'd be shit out luck." I can picture Maren's eye roll even though I can't see her face. "Now, does anyone else have any complaints before we start moving?"

Nobody dares speak up after that.

. . .

It's about an hour into the trip when Joseph mentions putting in the CDs Maren got this morning. The music was meant to save Maren from boredom, but strangely it's Joseph who is the most upset when she tells him they accidentally got shoved into her bag, which lies in the back somewhere, squat under a mountain of gear.

I thought that would be the end of that discussion, but apparently not. Joseph began searching through the luggage to find Maren's bag. Everything has now been uprooted and rearranged too many times to count, and still, there is no black duffel bag in sight.

Meanwhile, Stanley looks back every few seconds in irritation as his seat is shifted from a stray kick, clearly not in the mood to be bothered. Despite this, he does wait a surprising amount of time before finally snapping after another rough jostle, looking over his shoulder with a scowl.

"Dude, give it up. We'll just listen to one of Riley's CDs." His tone I sharp with annoyance. I have a feeling he has a bad hangover.

"No, that's not an option." Maren dismisses, and I have no idea if she's only disagreeing with him because she hates Riley's music that much, or if she just wants him to continue to to be annoyed. My bet is on the latter. She looks in the rear view mirror with a stern expression when Joseph pauses his search. "Find those CDs, Joseph."

"Yes m'am." Joseph obediently returns to his rummaging, even resorting to unhooking his seatbelt to get a better leverage point. I guess Riley must be asleep since she doesn't immediately turn around and tell him to hook up again.

After another few moments of him digging around, I finally ask, "Do you even know what kind of bag you're looking for?"

He scoffs. "Of course." Shaking his head, he continues shoving stuff around. "It's a blue suitcase, right?"

"It's a black duffel bag."

He freezes mid-rummage, checking over his shoulder to see if I'm serious. I nod. He groans. "Oh my God, I've seen that one like twenty times!" With a sigh that's dramatic even by his standards, he goes back to searching. "Does anyone here even own a blue suitcase?" The resounding "no" from everyone in the vehicle except Riley actually makes him pause for a moment, probably shocked anyone else was listening except for me.

"Dude, just find the stupid CD and get on with your life." Stanley demands. Joseph quickly starts looking again, although this time with more muttering that I'm assuming has something to do with blue suitcases.

It's a while before anyone speaks again, long enough for us to pass a welcome sign for a small town. We're nearly through the town when Joseph speaks up again, this time in excitement. "I think I found it!"

"Finally!" Stanley sighs in the seat ahead of him.

"Good job." I say since it seems like he's in need for some encouragement.

Just as the words leave my mouth, the vehicle seems to get a lot quieter. At first, I just chalk it down to smoother pavement, but then that doesn't really make a lot of sense considering the ride is just as bumpy. I glance up at the front of the car, where Maren looks toward the road, and then back at the steering wheel in quick succession.

"Everything okay?" John asks. He leans forward in his seat, peering over her shoulder as she shakes her head.

"Um... no?" She pauses. The car still stays silent and for a moment I wonder if she's going to do anything. Then she says, "I'm pressing on the gas right now." and I realize that she was doing something, the van just wasn't responding.

"Press harder." Stanley offers.

"The petal is to the floor." For once she doesn't snap at him, probably too focused on finding the problem to comprehend who's speaking.

"Brakes?" He asks.

"Good."

"Power steering?"

The vehicle slowly moves to the right. I notice that we are definitely losing speed now as the buildings go by at a slower rate, and cars pass us at a much faster one. "Nope." Maren replies, cranking the wheel the other way to get us straight again.

Stanley doesn't even need to say anything else, Maren is already pulling into the next parking lot we come across, struggling to turn the steering wheel. When the van finally creaks to a stop across a few of the parking spaces, there's silence throughout the vehicle. If I were to take a guess, I would say that everyone is busy sending prayers to whatever force they believe in that it's only a minor problem.

Finally Stanley sighs and unhooks his seat belt, prompting Maren to nudge Riley. "Hey, R. We have a problem."

If it were any other time she wouldn't even be able to fall asleep in a van full of talking people, but she must've been just then because her voice is mumbled when she answers. "A problem? What-"

"Yes!" Joseph suddenly exclaims next to me. He drops back into his seat and holds up two cases triumphantly. "I found the CDs!"

As a reaction, Stanley just opens the door and gets out with a long sigh. Riley looks at Maren. "Sorry, but I don't classify music as a problem."

I picture Maren rolling her eyes as she unhooks her seatbelt with more force than necessary. "The problem is that your stupid van broke down." She shoves the door open as Riley scoffs.

"Mavis is not stu- Wait, what?" Maren is already out of the car as Riley asks, "broke down?" The door slams shut and Riley just stares for a minute, apparently at a loss. She looks back at us. "Broke down?" She repeats.

"Something like that." I reply. Joseph looks just as confused as her, and I assume he also missed the ordeal in his hunt for the CDs. He decides not ask any questions now though. John grabs his jacket and gets out of the car to join Stanley and Maren outside, who are looking oddly peaceful with each other. I have a feeling it won't last long.

The rest of us get out of the car, just content to stand around and watch a confident-looking Stanley pop the hood. "Alright, lets see what's wrong with old Mavis here." He rolls up the sleeves of his hoodie as he stands in front the vehicle, rubbing his hands together after. "Hopefully it shouldn't take long."

. . .

"It's been forty minutes."

Maren passes in front of Riley and I as we sit on the curb under the entrance of the store. We had to travel all the way across the parking lot of what looks like a strip mall to find a spot with no snow on it. Thankfully the place is either closed or vacant, because Maren had to take up three parking spaces in her haste to park the van. We were actually going to wait inside the van, but Stanley insisted we stay outside since he was confident it wouldn't take long. Riley and I have been sitting for the past thirty minutes. Maren had decided to pace.

"Only thirty eight, actually." Riley corrects, trying to be lighthearted but only receiving an unamused glance in return. "Or forty. Forty works too." She amends quickly.

"Maren, just sit down." I say. I won't mention it but her limp is making the walk look less intimidating and more sad.

"No."

I sigh as she sends another look in the guys' direction, as though her gaze will make progress go faster. They're all crowded around the open hood of the van, spewing off suggestions every now and then for Stanley to check out. And he does. And then he finds nothing wrong. And then they stare for a bit until the next suggestion. And then the process repeats. Right now they're in the 'stare stage' of the process, meaning nothing is happening except for Maren's escalating irritation.

"Please sit down." Riley tries.

"Why?"

She presses her lips together, making a hand gesture that I'm not sure what to make of. "Honestly I'm just cold, and if you could block the wind from this side that would be great."

Maren stops pacing, raising an eyebrow at Riley, who smiles innocently, hands in her pockets and knee bouncing in front of her. Upon making the conclusion that she actually is cold, Maren gives in, dropping down next to her with a huff.

"Why do you even still have that van?" Maren asks, stretching her legs out in front of her, ankles crossed. Her and Riley are only wearing sneakers, having wrongly assumed that we wouldn't be spending much time outside. I wear a pair of boots that Mom got me for Christmas that aren't too clunky to be uncomfortable, and only come up to just above the ankle. They're nice. Mom may be distant, but at least there's no disputing her sense of fashion.

"Why would I get rid of something that still works fine?" Riley replies. Maren doesn't see it, but she's smiling, obviously only trying to rile her up.

"Are you kidding me?" Predictably, Maren is overly offended by the response. "You're actually going to say that to me right now? Do you see what's happening?" She gestures to guys huddled around the car on the other side of the vacant parking lot. They're literally scratching their heads. Not confident sight.

"What's happening is that they're fixing it." I say in a calming tone.

I manage to keep a straight face when she turns to look at me, incredulous. But then Riley looks down to hide a grin at her anger and Maren catches on, rolling her eyes. "Oh whatever." She puts her hands in the pockets of her unzipped coat, shaking her head while I crack a smile too. Despite her attitude, it's clear that she's more relaxed now, or at least coming to terms with the predicament. "Seriously though, how much longer do you think we'll be out here?"

"Oh, we're not going anywhere else for a good hour." I reply, nodding.

"Hey, that's not true." Riley argues. She makes a chiding noise. "Tow trucks usually only a take a half hour depending on traffic."

Maren actually does chuckle at that, and I'm not sure if it's from the comment or hopelessness. Then we just sit for a minute, watching as the guys seem to have yet another epiphany and set to work again. "What time do you think it is?" Maren asks after a while.

"I don't know. Probably ten thirty." I shrug.

Maren nods. "My guess is on quarter to eleven. Riley?"

"Well, judging by the position of the sun..." She closes one eye and squints the other, holding her right hand straight out, palm facing in. "I would say it's about... ten thirty eight." She nods and puts her hand back in her pocket, waiting for Maren to tell us the answer.

Maren pauses after the display, sending me a tired glance. I stifle a laugh and shake my head. "Alright then, Bear Grylls..." she mutters, taking her phone out of her pocket while Riley grins and winks at her proudly. I laugh and Maren rolls her eyes before looking down at her phone. "It is..." she sighs and glares at Riley, "ten thirty eight."

"See? I knew-"

"You cheated."

"I measured the distance between the horizon and-"

"You measured nothing."

Riley waits a moment in contemplation. "Perhaps..." She says slowly. She looks at Maren out of the corner of her eye, "Perhaps not..."

"Oh my God, I'm done." I laugh as Maren abruptly stands up from her spot, limping away to stand a few feet ahead of us with crossed arms. Riley smiles innocently at her and Maren rolls her eyes, although clearly amused. "I wish we could just go." She says, beginning her slow pacing again. "I want to be home before supper."

"What are you having for supper?" I ask.

She shrugs. "I don't know, probably Kraft Dinner or something."

I chuckle and she looks offended. "Really? That's why you want to get home?" I say.

"Kraft Dinner is better than a broken down van." She defends, shooting a look at Riley, who sighs.

"You know what I really love?" She says out of the blue. A breeze blows through the parking lot and she scrunches her shoulders, pulling her arms tighter to her sides. "How the van breaks down, and somehow it's my fault."

Maren blinks at her. "Of course it's your fault. You kept the damn thing."

"Oh, whatever." Riley says in a very Maren-like fashion, which Maren seems surprised at. Riley shrugs. "I guess I have to fix it then."

I furrow my eyebrows. "Three people have been trying to fix it for almost an hour now." I point out.

"Yeah," she agrees. She pulls out her phone. "Those three people refuse to use the power of the internet, so here we are."

Maren looks sceptical. "You really think that's going to work?"

Despite her obvious doubt, she takes her seat on the curb again, peering at Riley's phone while she searches "common problems that cause a vehicle to break down". She scrolls down through the obvious ones like the battery and belts, assuming those things are already checked.

"Since when do engines have fuses?" I ask. Riley shrugs in agreement. "Do you think they checked it?"

"Worth a shot." Maren says. I jump as she suddenly shouts a loud, "Hey!". Riley chuckles at my reaction but Maren thankfully doesn't notice. Meanwhile the guys all look over with varying degrees of confusion at the shout. "Did you check the fuses?"

They all send each other glances with furrowed eyebrows. Eventually, after a short exchange, John looks back this way. "What?"

"Did you check the fuses?" Maren tries again, a little louder.

John cups a hand around his ear. "What?!"

"Oh my God." Maren mutters. She looks at us both and sighs, all of us having an unspoken understanding before facing John once again.

"The fuses!" We all shout.

He seems to get it then and holds up a finger while he relays the message to Stanley. I know they haven't checked that particular part when Stanley starts hurriedly messing around inside the hood again. We all wait impatiently as he pulls out what must be a thing that contains the fuses, inspecting it closely. After a minute or two, he finally pulls something out with a grin, waving at us to come over.

Instead of immediately joining him, we all continue sitting for a moment, at a loss about how something that seemed so complicated was actually close to the easiest thing we've ever done.

"Wow." I say. I shake my head in disbelief. "That actually worked."

"Thank you, google." Maren says, patting Riley's phone as though giving it praise. She stands up with a grunt and begins her walk across the parking lot.

"And thank you Riley for the idea." Riley mutters as she walks away. Clearly she's not offended though.

"It was a good idea." I say anyway.

She waves a dismissing hand. "Thanks, but it's too late now." She sighs, standing and offering her hands when she gets in front of me. I take them and she pulls me up with a much too exaggerated grunt of effort.

Despite the size of the parking lot, it doesn't take us long to make it to the van, even with Maren's limping. Frankly, all of us are thoroughly cold and ready to leave so we'll make up time where we can. Stanley is holding something small when we approach, which he proudly passes to Riley once we're close enough.

She looks at it with a surprising amount of disinterest. "So it's a busted fuse." She says, glancing back up at him. "We knew that. What's it for?"

I think I see Maren smirk in appreciation, but then Stanley speaks again and the expression is gone. "It's for the engine according to the book." He holds up a manual that I never even knew he took out, opened to a page that has 'fuse connections' as a header, "I guess it was old and just gave out."

"Okay, well do you have another one?" Maren asks.

"Uh..." Stanley's response proves immediately that he hadn't thought that far ahead. He runs a hand through his hair and avoids Maren's eyes. "Well, no-"

"So what's your plan?"

The sudden questions must throw him off, because he gets a blank look on his face as he shakes his head. I almost feel bad for him. After nearly an hour of searching and he finally found the problem, only to get his hope of a solution ripped away with just a couple of sentences.

"We passed a hardware store a little while back." John says, pointing in the direction we came from with his thumb. "It's probably not a long walk."

Joseph claps his hands together. "Great, problem solved." He when nobody moves, his eyebrows furrow. "Well, who's coming?"

Nobody comments on how he's obviously much too excited to go to the hardware store, but instead just state their position with varying states of enthusiasm. In the end, Maren decides not to go because of her leg, even though Stanley offers her a piggy-back ride. Shockingly, she declines. Riley stays back too to keep Maren company. The rest of us start down the street after that.

"So, how far is the store?" Stanley asks John.

John shrugs. "Well I'm not really sure, but I don't think it's that far."

"I thought you knew where it was."

"I know it's in this general direction." John says, motioning up the sidewalk. Stanley visibly huffs and shakes his head, making John strike an expression of offence. "Do you have a better idea?"

"Hey, guys, calm down." Joseph interrupts in a soothing tone. Even though we're walking behind them and they don't look back, he smiles anyway. "We'll get there eventually. It's like a little adventure."

"Or a big adventure, depending on how far away it is." Stanley says.

"Again, do you have a better idea?"

Joseph looks over at me while they continue bickering. "We need to get away from all of this-" he waves a hand at their backs, "negative energy".

He starts looking around as I hold back a laugh. "What? Negative energy? That's a bit dramatic, even for you."

He doesn't even bother to look offended, just letting his usual carefree smile stretch across his lips. "'Even for me'? What's that supposed to mean?" I'm about to respond when a car rushes by close on my right side. The proximity of the car should alarm me, but the brown slush it sprays in its wake is momentarily more concerning. I watch as it gets splashed on my new boots, and while I'm slightly disappointed, I'm also resigned to the fact that they have to get dirty sometime. "Here." Joseph tugs my arm, making me go on the inside of the sidewalk instead while he walks on the curb side.

"Thanks, but I can handle a little water on my boots." I chuckle.

I watch his smile break into an expression of confusion as he glances at me and then down at my feet. "Water on your boots? What are you talking about?" He points at the road, where another car passes. I can't help but notice how a few drops of brown water land on his own footwear, but he doesn't seem to care. "That car was like two feet away from you, and your only thought was that your boots got dirty?"

He studies me with raised eyebrows and for a moment I don't know what to say. I haven't gotten chided for anything in so long it actually feels foreign. I put my hands in my pockets. "Well... yeah."

"Marina!"

I shrug sheepishly. "They're new."

For a moment he pauses and looks down. "They are?"

"Yeah."

"Oh." He nods and sends me a quick smile. "They're nice." I smile and look down at the shoes in appreciation before Joseph points a finger at me. "But still, I can't believe you didn't notice how close that car was."

"I did notice." If possible, his eyebrows raise another fraction. "And it wasn't close enough to hit me. But guess what did hit me?" He rolls his eyes and I nod. "Yup. Water."

"Mar-"

"On my new boots."

He shakes his head. "You're ridiculous." Seeming to run out of things to say, he just tuts at me as we continue down the sidewalk. It's weird, usually I'm the one worrying about everything, but it's the opposite right now. It almost doesn't feel right. After a second Joseph tilts his head, probably thinking the same thing as me. "Did we just switch places?"

I nod once. "Literally and figuratively."

"You're right." He laughs. "Wow, that's— ice cream!"

Before I can even comprehend the word thrown in at the end of the sentence, his hand closes around mine and I'm being tugged into a parking lot. I look up as my feet catch up to him and see a little store with colourful siding, a sign in the window advertising desserts and ice cream.

"Hey, where are you guys going?" Stanley calls from the sidewalk.

"Ice cream." Joseph repeats, pointing at the building.

Stanley visibly perks up, straightening up and tapping John a couple times to get his attention. "Let's get ice cream."

"What? No. We don't have time." John reasons.

"They're getting some." Stanley complains. He tries to follow us but John grabs his arm and pulls him back before he can get far.

"They don't have to look for a very important car part. Now let's go."

Reluctantly, Stanley follows, deflated. "We'll meet you back at the van!" Joseph calls. John shoots a thumbs up but Stanley just waves the comment off, clearly sour about the result of the exchange.

We continue through the parking lot, and I'm reminded about how cold it is when we have to dodge a patch of black ice. "Why do you want ice cream right now? You know it's winter right?"

"Ice cream is good at any time of the year." He says, grinning as he jogs ahead to hold open the door.

The place looks bigger on the inside than I thought it would. Sets of worn, green booths line the wall to our right, a polished wooden table under every window. Chairs with little square tables fill the rest of the space, seeming to be placed around randomly on clean checkered tile. There's even a countertop lined with cushioned stools, completing the whole 'classic diner' look with so much accuracy I feel like I've been transferred onto a movie set.

A bell jingles behind me as Joseph closes the door, rubbing his hands together as he comes in, looking over the place like I just did. "Wow, this is nice." He says. I nod, heading to the counter as an older woman emerges from the kitchen, a striped apron tied around her that looks like it's seen a few too many years.

"What can I get for you guys?" She asks with a smile.

"Depends..." Joseph says. "Are you guys still selling ice cream?"

"All year round." She replies.

Joseph grins and glances at me excitedly before facing the woman again. I notice that her name tag says 'Debby'. "Cool, what kinds do you have?"

She points to a cooler that's built into the counter on the left that must have about twenty different flavours in it. To say I've never seen Joseph more excited would be lie—because he's been excited over a lot of things—, but to say he's sufficiently pumped would be true.

"Is ice cream a booming business in the winter or something?" I ask Debby with a chuckle as Joseph looks through the flavours.

She shrugs. "You'd be surprised."

"Marina!" Joseph's calls, making me turn to see him pressing a finger to the glass. "They have cookie dough!"

I can't help a grin on my face because his excitement is infectious, even despite the fact that I'm really way too old to be pumped about ice cream. "Get some then." I reply, joining him by the glass.

"Yeah..." he crosses his arms and steps back, eyeing every container with special care. "But there's also moon dust and hoof prints so I'm torn."

"Get all three."

For a moment he just looks at me, like he's trying to decide if I'm joking or not. "Really?"

"If you want." I reply. "I can get a few more too if you want so you can try those." I slide my hands in the pockets of my coat as I look over the flavours and try to decide which ones we'll both like.

"Wow." Joseph says finally. I look up in confusion and he grins as he puts an arm around my shoulder and presses a kiss to the side of my head. "You're the best."

I shake my head but can't help a chuckle. "It's just ice cream, Joseph."

"It's never just ice cream." He steps away so he make a wide hand gesture, which looks to be a circular movement that I'm unsure what to make of. "Ice cream is happiness. Ice cream is summer. It's childhood and- What? There's cheesecake ice cream?"

Due to his excitement, I find myself sending Debby an apologetic glance, but she just smiles. She's either unbothered or used to seeing the behaviour from small children.

I turn my attention back to Joseph, who is now a few feet away, looking at even more options. "What are you having?" He asks.

"I'm thinking the cheesecake one... but I don't know what else."

"Well, that's easy enough to solve." He looks at Debby. "Do you have any suggestions?"

She hums and comes over to the glass. "Caramel swirl and raspberry are the ones I like."

Joseph nods after receiving the information. "So, Sea Girl, did that help you decide?"

Honestly I couldn't care less about the type of ice cream I have, so I just nod and smile at Debby in thanks. "Those sound perfect." I reply.

While she's getting the ice cream, I quickly become aware that the scoops are bigger than I thought, and three is probably too much for one person. Although despite my worries, Joseph is clearly unconcerned when she slides the two bowls across the counter, the ice cream barely able to fit. He just pulls out some cash before I can offer to pay, and hands it to Debby with a smile, telling her to keep the change.

Joseph then pauses to study the seating options for a longer period of time I would've thought it would take to choose a table. After a few moments he moves with purpose toward one of the older looking booths here, the fabric kind of fraying at the seams and decorated with a couple of rips. It's also next to a window, so I have a feeling that was also a factor in his seating debate.

"This one has character." He explains as we sit down, as though he knew what I was thinking. He picks up his plastic spoon and stabs it into a random scoop of ice cream without so much as a glance down. "And a window."

"I've noticed." I say.

He puts his spoonful of ice cream in his mouth while I pick up my spoon and take some of what I think is the cheesecake flavour with a tamer enthusiasm. He turns to look out the window and makes a noise to get my attention since his mouth is full. I follow his line of sight to find a man and a woman in the next parking lot over. They're standing on either side of a car and obviously arguing. Joseph swallows his mouthful, tapping on the glass with his knuckle. "What do you think they're arguing about?"

I shrug. "I don't know, taxes?"

Joseph raises an eyebrow. "Are taxes a thing people argue about?"

"Maybe they do." I reply, even though I really don't know. It seems likely.

"Fair enough." He admits. He studies the couple, humming as he tries to figure it out. "I bet they're arguing about what kind of instrument to get." He muses finally, pointing at them with his spoon. "The husband wants to get an electric guitar but the wife is more of a piano type."

His randomness shocks me for a moment, until I remember that he's Joseph and this type of thing really isn't all that strange. "What? Where did that even come from?" I ask anyway. He takes another large spoonful of ice cream up, bouncing the utensil absentmindedly while he thinks of a response.

"I can read lips." His mouth closes around his spoon as he nods.

I shake my head while he seems to struggle with eating the mountain of ice cream he just put in his mouth. "No you can't."

His next words are so garbled I can barely make them out, but I think he says something along the lines of, "I totally can."

I take another look at the couple, and notice that the parking lot they're arguing in is for a music store. Raised eyebrows are my reply and Joseph tries to smirk upon discovering I figured it out, but his cheeks are too full so it just causes him more struggle. "Good guess, but they're not husband and wife." Deciding to participate in whatever guessing games he's started, I poke at another scoop with my spoon while he works on swallowing his latest mouthful.

When he can finally speak again, the first thing he does is challenge me. "How do you know?"

"They're not wearing wedding rings."

He seems startled at the response, eyebrows furrowing and green eyes glancing at the couple and then back at me. "What?" He squints his eyes at the window. "How can you even see that far?"

"You can't?" I pretend to be concerned. "Do you need glasses, Joseph?" I tease.

"No. You're just way too perceptive." He wrinkles his nose at me. "Anyway, if they're not married, what are they?"

I press lips together in thought, Joseph taking the opportunity to eat yet another colossal spoonful of ice cream. "They're friends going on a road trip." I decide finally. Joseph nods along and I continue. "He's mad because the car broke down even though she said it would be fine, and now they have to go look for some weird car part."

"Wow." There's a chuckle through his words, although I can see he puts a genuine effort into looking sincere as he continues. "I love your creativity."

"Oh come on, it's hard." I defend. Looking down at the ice cream, I decide on raspberry this time and quickly deem it my new favourite. "You try."

"Okay." He thinks for a moment. "They're a couple." He says at last, absentmindedly pushing his spoon into his dessert. "They've been together for years but don't feel like they need to get married. She pulled into the parking lot to make a call to work, and he's mad because she's been spending all of their vacation focusing on work and this is the last straw."

A few moments pass where I'm just comprehending the speed at which he made up the story. I really shouldn't be surprised though. "Maybe her work is very important." I reason.

He nods like he's way ahead of me. "Well that's why she's mad, because she knows her work needs her time but he just doesn't understand." He shrugs. "They'll get over it though." Satisfied with his examination of the couple, he looks down at his ice cream, the handle of his spoon halfway buried in a scoop of cookie dough. He tilts his head to the side, debating how to resolve the situation.

"That is extremely detailed." I say.

"Maybe." He shrugs, opting for the method of some type of wiggling motion to retrieve his utensil with the least amount of mess. Meanwhile, the couple outside the window seem to have come to an agreement, both of them getting in the car. As the vehicle backs out of the parking space, Joseph sends me a smug smile. "Well they obviously don't have car trouble so... you were wrong. Just saying."

"That doesn't mean you're right." I argue.

"No, but it means a better chance of me being right than you. And I'll take that." I roll my eyes and he grins, reaching across to table to take a spoonful of the flavour I haven't had the chance to try yet. "Do you ever think about it?" He asks eventually.

I shake my head at his tendency to always to ask the vaguest questions and just expect me to understand. Sometimes I do, but sometimes the query is too open and I can't possible take a guess.

A smile inches it's way onto my face at his expectant look, like he's fully confident I'll give him the answer he wants. Instead, I raise an eyebrow. "You're going to have to be more specific."

"The future." He clarifies. His voice holds no disappointment in my lack of understanding, only curiosity. "What you're going to do, where you're going to be."

I pause to think about it, because I know deep down I have to have thought of some semblance of a plan for the future. "Yeah." I admit after a moment. "Nothing too ambitious, but I'd like to think I'll be okay, with a job and a house or something."

"And a dog?" He asks.

I shrug. "Maybe a cat."

"Really? A cat instead of a dog?"

"Dogs are a lot of maintenance. At least cats look after themselves." I defend, beginning to think I've put more planning into the details of my future life than I originally thought.

"Yeah, they're low maintenance until you find like fifteen regurgitated hairballs lying around." Joseph smirks.

"And thank you for that lovely image. I needed that." Joseph grins proudly at my feigned smile, even reaching over and taking another spoonful of caramel swirl with a wink. "What about you?" I ask him. "What does your future look like?"

"Well, first of all, there's a dog in it." He says.

"I figured."

He smiles at his own predictability for a moment before continuing. "But for the rest of it, I really have no idea. I'm applying to the university for sure, but I just feel like I'll be one of those people who just waste time trying to figure out what they actually want."

"Well it's not exactly wasting time if you're developing interests." I point out, although I'm not sure I'm helping. He's still smiling, but there's something else there that's refusing to let it reach his eyes. "Come on, there has to be something you want to do." I try.

"Of course there is." He starts seriously. "Right now it's eating ice cream." He raises his spoon to me like a toast before putting yet another huge chunk of his dessert in his mouth. I vaguely wonder if he's immune to brain freezes.

"Once you're an adult with a career you can get all the ice cream you want." I decide to participate in his clear distraction from the topic. Besides, keeping things lighthearted seems like a better option than stressing him out about something he has lots of time to figure out anyway. "Even cookie dough." I add.

Making a noise of clear approval, he points his spoon at me. "I can get a huge freezer and have one of every kind."

I chuckle. "Really? Do you need that much ice cream?"

He shrugs, building up another mountain of ice cream onto his utensil. "Maybe our freezer is so huge that I'll need to put ice cream in there or risk... you know... space wastage." He lifts the spoon to his mouth, but seems to want to add more to his idea before eating it. "And if I just put ice cream in it then I'll be saving energy because ice cream is already cold so it'll just make the freezer more cold." Seeming satisfied with the thought, he puts the food in his mouth happily. I kind of just look at him for a minute, wondering if I heard the first part right. Joseph sees the look and cringes. "Yeah, that didn't really make sense did it?" He words are garbled as he shakes his head at his own flawed logic.

"No, it's not that." I say. He raises his eyebrows attentively while I debate wether or not to be a little mean and mention his slip up. For the sole purpose of entertainment, I decide to bring it up, pretending to be serious. "You said our."

I watch his eyebrows furrow as he slowly brings more ice cream up to his mouth. "Our... What?"

"Our freezer."

Realization dawns on his face just after closing his mouth around the spoon. He slowly pulls the utensil out with a contemplative silence, staring at something north of my eyes. Finally his mouth opens, and a sound comes out that I'm sure was supposed to be a word, but any logical meaning is absorbed by the frozen dessert in his mouth that has become too much for him to speak around. He holds up a finger and makes a visible effort to get it down faster. By the time he can talk again I'm pressing my lips together to stifle a smile at his concern that escalates every second he stays silent.

He takes a final swallow and meets my eyes.

"Oh."

I catch a laugh in my throat. "Oh?"

His lips twist, looking like he regrets the choice of words. "Uh, Yeah." He says sheepishly. The spoon jiggles up and down in his hand; the result of nervous movement. "I mean... I never meant to. It kind of just... you know..."

"Slipped out?" I offer.

He hums in agreement. "Mmhmm, yup. Slipped out is right. Because we're together-" he makes a gesture between us, "-right now, so I just said it. Like, I don't think about— I mean I do think about that, just, you know... not..." His hand, open after being in the process of a hurried gesture closes into a fist as his eyebrows furrow, wondering how to proceed. "it's just... it's very early, and we're not..." He looks in my eyes almost pleadingly, "... ready?"

"Ready for... what?" I prompt, making it seem like I'm genuinely curious. I can't hold it for long though, letting a teasing smile slip out as I arch an eyebrow. "Joint custody of a freezer?"

At my change of tone, I watch his face relax as he realizes I was only joking. With a relived sigh, he sticks his spoon in his ice cream and lets out a breathy laugh. "Thank God. I thought you were actually creeped out."

"No, it was just funny." I say, grinning when he wrinkles his nose at me. I might feel bad for doing this to anyone else, but so many times it's me who's left stuttering for a response and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't nice to see the same done to him. "Besides, it's not like you were naming our children or something." I continue.

He blinks at me. "You haven't named our children yet?" I laugh but he just shakes his head. "Marina, this is an issue. Are you even taking this relationship seriously?"

"Um, obviously. I've already committed to owning a freezer with you someday, so... you know..." I shrug smugly and rest my chin on my hand, "I think I'm pretty serious."

He laughs, the sound bringing a grin out of me. Reaching across the table, he lays his hand palm-up in front of me, waiting for me to put mine in his. I do it automatically. It's a loose connection, a motion of him idly running his thumb over my fingers that serves as nothing more than a small comfort. But then I see how his smile reaches his eyes again, and I think it might mean a little more.

"You'll figure it out, you know." I assure him. I don't elaborate, trusting him to catch onto my random thought processes just like he trusts me. Although he has a lot more of them. "You believe in fate right? So really, everything should just fall into place." His eyes meet mine and I squeeze his hand. "Nothing to worry about."

He raises an eyebrow slightly, mastering an expression that's such a perfect mix of playfulness and sincerity that I didn't even realize it existed until now. "Look at you being all optimistic and stuff." I roll my eyes but he just continues with a widening grin. "I bet it was the ice cream."

Before I can respond, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket a second before the high-pitched ding sounds, signalling a text message. I let go of Joseph's hand to check it.

"It's from John, they've got the part." I say, putting it back in my pocket.

Joseph looks surprised. "Wow, that was fast." Then he tilts his head and pulls his own phone out of his pocket, allowing an offended look to cross his features as he focuses on me again. "And why didn't he text me?"

"Because he thought you might not check your phone." I reply. He gives me a weird look. "It's what he said."

He seems to contemplate it for a moment, twisting his lips in an over-exaggerated version of thought before nodding reluctantly. "He has a point." My nod of agreement might come a little too quickly, but he doesn't seem to notice. "I guess we'll have to take the ice cream to go."

"Well you're almost done yours anyway." I point out as we slide out of the booth, noticing he only has a couple spoonfuls left. The amount of ice cream remaining in my cup is almost ten times what's left in his and I try to decide if I'm a slow eater or if he's just faster than normal. Maybe a bit of both.

"Yeah, and it looks like you'll need a bit of help finishing yours off." He says, quickly finishing the last bit of his before dumping his cup in the garbage. "You know, it's kind of sad such a nice place is seven hours away from town." His lips press together in disappointment as he looks around like it's the last time he'll ever see it.

"I'm sure we can find somewhere to go." I reason. He shrugs as he darts in front of me to open the door. The ring of a bell announces our exit from the cozy diner, only to be met with a harsh chill from the outside. The cup in my hand suddenly feels a lot colder. "Do you want the rest?" I ask Joseph.

"You know, I'm suddenly feeling a little too cold." He takes it anyway and shrugs. "But we can give it to Stanley." As if on cue, John and Stanley walk past the parking lot, a receipt and a package that must contain the fuse in John's hand. Joseph holds up the cup. "Hey, Stan! We got you ice cream!"

"You did?" Stanley leaves John to jog over, grinning when Joseph hands him the dessert, and apparently uncaring for the obviously missing scoop and a half. "Thanks, dude."

Stanley turns out to be in much better spirits on the way back to the car than he was coming up, and I'm not sure if it's due to getting the part or the ice cream. The latter is gone in under a minute and I start to think if him and Joseph worked on it they could probably set some type of record.

After a small walk and a little more water sprayed onto my boots, we make it back to the van. Riley gets out of the car before we even get there, walking over to meet us with a clearly guilty smile. "I've been sent to make sure you got the part." She says, glancing back at the vehicle in a way that makes me think it was more of a threat than a request.

"We did." John assures her. Probably assuming Maren is more concerned, he holds up the package and waves it at her. She's still sitting in the drivers seat and shoots him a thumbs-up that's probably sarcastic for no other reason than her being angry at the predicament.

"Is she still mad?" I ask Riley.

She nods. "Pissed."

"Lovely."

It's a tense moment as Stanley inserts the surprisingly tiny part into some box-looking thing, and an even tenser moment when he tells Maren to turn the key. She does. It works.

The relief is clear, everyone letting out either a relieved sigh or a cheer, especially Stanley. He even holds up his hands for high fives, getting one from everybody, and two from Joseph.

"Right, hallelujah and crap." Maren's sarcastic voice cuts off anymore celebration. She's still in the vehicle, yelling at us through an open window. "Try to clue up the victory party, we need to get in before dark."

With that, she cranks the window up (yes, a manual window crank), leaving the rest of us to return to the vehicle with varying degrees of urgency, except for Stanley, who finds a bottle of windshield wash under his seat and fills it up before closing the hood. The silence as we finally get back on the road is slightly unnerving. It's like we're all just waiting for something to go wrong again.

After about ten minutes, when we're pretty well sure everything is going to be fine, Joseph clears his throat. "Um, anyway, who wants to listen to some CDs?"

Maren

When we finally turn into my subdivision the sun is in the middle of going down, causing everything to be illuminated in a dim glow. I think there's more snow around than when I left, piled on top of cars and house roofs. It snowed in here earlier today, but thankfully we didn't get any on the drive in. We had enough problems as it was.

Riley sits comfortably in the passenger seat after being asleep for most of the ride. She's the only one left now, so she'll take the car when I get my stuff out and drive herself home. I'm relieved. After being in the drivers seat of the rumbling van for eight consecutive hours, listening to it's weird sounds and feeling jolts when there shouldn't be jolts, I've deemed the vehicle an actual ticking time bomb that needs to be replaced ASAP.

Out of curiosity, I take the turn onto my street faster than I usually would, wondering if feeling the roughness from the passenger side will startle Riley into realizing her own driving flaws. She just shifts in her seat to counteract the turning force like it's second nature, and I give up on any hope she'll ever become a gentler driver.

"Hey, thanks for driving." She looks over like she's just remembered she's not in the driver's seat. "Even after the, you know... mishap."

"Oh, you mean when the car completely shut down as we were going down the road?"

Riley clears her throat and looks out the window, clearly feeling some guilt. "Yeah, that would be it. But-" she gives the dash a couple taps and I almost expect it to fall apart under her hand, "you know, it was just a fuse and it's fixed now. So-"

"You know that could have been a lot worse, right?" I interrupt, knowing she was trying to avoid this conversation but bringing it up anyway. "We're lucky that didn't happen while we were on the highway, or that it wasn't a bigger problem that google couldn't fix."

Riley sighs and I really don't want to chide her, but the thing is falling apart, and it's concerning that she doesn't see it as problem. She rubs a piece of fraying seat fabric between her fingers as she responds. "I know."

"Well why don't you get something else?" I ask. "Riley, this isn't safe. It's almost more than a decade old."

"I know." She repeats, this time a little firmer. It's a weird tone for her, but I choose to ignore it for now.

"Look," I start, trying to channel a Marina-like patience to have this conversation, "I know you don't like change and you've had this van for a while, but I think it's time to get something that's a little less..." I struggle to find a gentle way to put it, "...eager to die."

"Oh wow. That's harsh." She chuckles.

"It's true." I counter. "Come on, even Stephanie has told you to get a new car, and she has the sense of a-"

"Who's that in your driveway?"

At first I'm convinced she's just changing the topic to avoid the conversation. But then I see the house in the distance, and sure enough, a red car sits in the driveway next to mine. Mom's car is usually in that spot, but I remember she has a shift tonight.

Riley looks at me, eyebrows furrowed in concern after I fail to give her an answer, and I can't blame her. It's not like I just have random relatives dropping in all the time like she does. I don't even talk to my grandparents or other adult enough for them to be comfortable enough with just coming by unannounced.

A sense of unease sets in my stomach as I pull up to the curb just before the driveway. It's an old vehicle, I can tell that much, a peeling license plate and spots of rust giving away it's age. The car looks familiar, and it is. I would recognize it anywhere just because of the fact I never wanted to see it anywhere ever again. Because that car has dented metal and a busted headlight on the left side. It has knocks and scratches and dents and faded paint and a spoiler on the back and it used to park on the curb outside of my house. Everyday.

"Uh... Maren?" Riley seems to have figured it out too, sending me a glance as I put the van in park. "Is that-"

"Yup." My heart is pounding and the air feels thick but my voice is fine. Flat. Too casual.

Neither of us move as the seconds tick by, eyes glued out the window. And for a while, nothing happens. I begin to think that it's some mistake, somebody with an identical car to the one I remember just lost their way and are parked at the wrong house. I know it's not true though.

The car door swings open. A man steps out, turns to face us, and leans against his vehicle. He's waiting for us the get out. My stomach drops.

"Riley, stay in the van."

---

So... I feel kind of bad about the cliff hanger but this is the first time I've done it so hopefully you'll forgive me.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading and let me know what you think in the reviews!