By NightsDawne
Chapter 8: Skating Away
Irvine awoke with a shiver and sat up, the rhythmic pounding of waves on sand and the smell of the dying embers of the campfire reminding him of where he was. He looked to the other side of the fire and saw Seifer by the dim orange glow, still asleep, one arm thrown carelessly over his face. The last of the rabbit they'd had for supper was mere charcoal on the spit. Ocean mist had crept around them, obscuring anything beyond their small campsite. He hugged his knees to his chest, trying to ward off the chill.
Seifer's question from the previous day echoed through Irvine's mind. What was he going to do now? It had a hint of invitation to it, as if Seifer's protective older brother role from their childhood had been rekindled with his memories. It was tempting. He felt comfortable with Seifer, another failed Garden cadet like himself, even if the reasons were different for both of them. And there was a certain sense of fate considering Seifer's promise so long ago. Irvine liked fate. Still, the thought of what Squall would think if he found out plagued him. Even when they had been peers Squall and Seifer had been rivals, the only two gunblade experts in training for SeeD. Would Squall see it as a betrayal? Would he lose that quiet trust Squall had so uncharacteristically placed in him?
Seifer rolled over onto his side, grunting as he worked himself into a comfortable position again. Irvine looked to his newly refound friend again, clenching his jaw to quiet the chattering of his teeth. As if he felt Irvine's gaze, Seifer's eyes slowly opened.
"You cold?" Irvine's teeth clattered for a second after the short speech.
Seifer didn't answer for a moment, still drowsy. "Yeah. We out of firewood?"
"Driftwood burns fast."
Seifer sat up, running a hand through his hair to shake the sand out of it. "Should have brought sleeping bags."
Irvine grinned, the motion making his teeth rattle again. "Shoulda brought a tent."
A smile crossed Seifer's features. "Should have brought whiskey."
"Now why couldn't you have been smart before we came?"
"That was your job. You knew where we were going, not me. Wish we had some bacon and eggs."
"Coffee would be nice. Damn, it's colder'n Shiva's tits out here."
Seifer looked around them. "And we can't see a thing."
Irvine pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit one up with shivering fingers, then tossed them over the fire to Seifer, who likewise helped himself to one. Irvine took a long slow drag, the heat of the smoke comforting his throat and stopping his teeth from their chatter. "If we head up off the beach the fog won't be so bad."
"Long walk to town if we want breakfast. Unless you're going to go hunting again. To be honest with you, though, I can't commend your cooking skills, Squirt."
"Thanks alot. You ate enough last night."
"I was starving."
"Galbadia Garden's less than a mile away. Saw the top of it pokin' over the trees last night when I was huntin'. There's plenty of stored rations there. Plus whiskey."
Seifer raised a brow. "Why didn't you say so earlier?"
"I said so now." Irvine got to his feet, smacking his clothes to clear them of beach residue, then picked up his flashlight and flicked it on. "Let's go. The walk'll warm us up."
Seifer groaned as he got to his feet. "Should have brought a car."
"Shoulda brought women," answered Irvine, starting up the steps.
"Beach towels."
"Boombox."
"Motorcycles."
"Jacuzzi."
They kept up the banter as they made their way away from the cottage and through the dark trees to the inland side, getting more and more elaborate with their list of forgotten necessities until they'd built a veritable playboy's dream house on the site of the old orphanage. They fell silent, however, as Irvine's flashlight flickered across the gleaming walls of the once-mobile Garden building, crashed in a collision with Balamb Garden when a possessed Seifer had been at the helm.
"You sure you wanna go in there?" Irvine glanced at Seifer, unable to read his expression.
"What, you calling me a chickenwuss?" Seifer reached over and knocked Irvine's hat off. "C'mon, show me where the whiskey is." He strode confidently forward and squeezed through a partially open portal. Irvine picked up his hat and readjusted it on his head, then ran to catch up.
"Go left.. yeah, left. C Corridor. All the way at the end, Martine's office."
Seifer eyed Irvine. "You lived here for eleven years and you're second guessing if you know your way around?"
"Oh, shut up. I just get confused sometimes about right and left. Made me hell on drill days." Irvine flicked off his flashlight, following the dim glow of the emergency lights at the base of the walls.
Seifer furrowed his brow slightly as he followed. "And you can't read, right?"
".... Are you gonna keep bringin' that up all the time? I don't know why I even told you that."
"You're not dumb, Irvine. There's got to be some reason."
"What's it matter? I don't gotta read ta shoot."
Seifer stuck his hands in his pockets. "Have you ever seen Cid's handwriting?"
Irvine looked over his shoulder. "... No, why?"
"It's lousy. Hard to read a lot of the time. That's why he mostly uses the computer to send out memos and stuff. His d's look like b's and his b's look like d's."
"Uh huh, real interestin'. So?"
"So, he's dyslexic. And he's your father."
"Dys-whosit?" Irvine stopped, turning to face Seifer.
"Dyslexic. It's a learning disability."
"In other words, he's an idiot, so I must be an idiot?"
Seifer shook his head. "Stop talking like a moron for a minute and listen. It doesn't mean you're stupid. It means something's cross wired in your brain. Directions get mixed up. Symbols mean shit. Letters are symbols."
"So I'm not stupid. Same problem, I still can't read. Don't matter if it's because I'm dumb or dys-whatever."
"Dyslexic. And yeah, it does matter. If you're dyslexic you can get the written exams changed to oral. Besides, dyslexics can learn to read, they just need to be taught differently. In a way their brains can work out."
"Forget it, Seifer. I ain't goin' back to Balamb."
Seifer shook his head. "I'm not saying you have to. But you've at least got a choice. You shouldn't just throw it away without thinking about it. You could be a SeeD."
"So could you." The two stared at each other for several tense moments, unspoken challenge in their eyes. Irvine caved first, turning and walking down the hall again. "I'm thirsty. That whiskey's waitin'."
An hour later Irvine sprawled on his back on Martine's desk, a half-empty bottle of Scotch dangling from the fingers of one hand while the other brandished one of Martine's fancy cigars. "They're jus' a bunch of stiffs anyway. Right?"
"Mmhmm." Seifer slowly spun in Martine's chair, cradling his own bottle. He puffed out a ring of smoke and leaned back, making the chair creak in protest. "Who?"
"...I forget." There was a brief pause before they both burst into laughter. Irvine sat up. "Dintcha say somethin' 'bout rations earlier?"
"Did I? I thought you did."
"If I didn't, I shoulda. I got this cravin' for peanut butter I gotta take care of." Irvine slid off the desk and lifted the bottle to his lips, managing to get almost as much in his mouth as he spilled on his vest.
Seifer staggered to his feet. "Peanut butter, ho! ...Where the hell is the peanut butter anyhow?"
Irvine turned around, his brow furrowed in concentration, and pointed to the west. "Thataway."
Seifer followed Irvine's finger with a squint. "...That's a clock."
"No no no. The peanut butter's around the wall thataway. Cafeteria."
"Oh." Seifer waltzed his way around the desk and grabbed Irvine by the elbow, dragging him out the door. They made their way down the corridor, stumbling, ricocheting off of the walls and occasionally each other, breaking into snickers at odd moments for reasons only their drunken minds could understand.
Irvine held up his hand suddenly. "Wait. This's it." He leaned heavily on a door, trying to get it to open.
"Cafeteria?" Seifer reached around his inebriated companion and turned the doorknob, sending Irvine staggering into the room.
"What cafeteria?" Irvine recovered with the generous assistance of a wall and stood up. "S'my room."
Seifer weaved in after Irvine. "What a dump. Crash really did a number on your place."
Irvine kicked at a pile of laundry. "Nah, it was always like this." He leaned over to whisper in a conspiritorial manner, "Martine hated it." He confirmed his confession with a solemn nod.
"In that case, I commend your taste in interior decorating." Seifer leered at Irvine's collection of posters featuring scantily clad women. "So this was your famous lovenest?"
Irvine bounded across the room and onto the bed, twisting to fall on his back. "The Shrine of Kinneas, yeah. And this, this was the altar of virgin sacrifice." He rocked his hips upward against an imaginary lover.
Seifer laughed, then bent to pick up a pair of black figure skates. "... You were a figure skater?"
Irvine rolled onto his side. "Hell, yeah. You know of any other sport where you can grab a chick's ass in public and get points for it?"
"You, Irvy, have a one track mind. There's other things to life besides women. ..I just can't think of any at the moment."
"Hey, let's go skatin'." Irvine got back up to his feet on the second try. "That's what I wanna do."
"Thought you wanted peanut butter."
Irvine waved his hand dismissively, stumbling back out of his room. "Passing fad. C'mon, you can grab some skates in the locker room."
Seifer followed, draping the figure skates over his shoulder. "One itsy bitsy problem, Irvy."
"What's that?"
"I can't skate."
Irvine waved his hand over his shoulder, shaking his head. "S'no problem. I'll learn ya.. teach ya? Fuck, I never could get that one right."
"You can barely walk. How're you gonna skate?"
"Skatin's easier'n walkin'. Well, lutzes, they ain't easier'n walkin', but jus' skatin'? Piece of cake." Irvine grabbed a bar door handle and yanked, blatantly ignoring the large block letters in front of his face saying 'PUSH'.
"Other way, Irvy."
Irvine peered at the letters, then gave the door a push, grinning as it opened easily. "I knew that. Voila. Locker room." He grabbed Seifer's lapel and pulled him inside, staggering over to a row of open lockers, Slaps uniforms and equipment still hanging, ready for a practice that would never come. He indicated the lockers with a wide sweep of his hand. "Help yourself."
Seifer unloaded the figure skates, handing them over to Irvine, then looked for a pair of skates his size. "You sure this is a good idea? We're both pretty wasted."
"It's a wonderful idea. Glad you thought of it." Irvine half-sat, half-fell on a bench and pulled off his boots so he could put on the skates.
Seifer didn't look as confident as his friend about the venture, but nevertheless sank onto a bench and exchanged his biker boots for a pair of size 11 hockey skates. "Least I've got manly skates."
"Oh, shove it." Irvine gave up on the hopeless knot he'd made instead of a tie in the laces and stood up, weaving just a tiny bit. "You ready?"
"Think so. Is that you moving back and forth or me?"
"It's the room."
"Oh, right." Seifer stood up. "Hey, this is easy."
"Tol' ya." Irvine wandered a veering path towards the rink, Seifer following with only a slightly more steady stride. Irvine spent a few moments trying to open the gate before he just climbed over the boards. "Okay, the trick of it is, don't lean backwards and keep your knees a little bent. Your sense of equilibriuminum will take over."
"My what?"
"Equilibrinulum. Balance."
"Right, gotcha." Seifer swung a leg over the boards and fell sideways, sprawling on the ice.
"...That's a good lesson ta learn first, how ta fall."
Seifer sat up, then pulled himself back to his feet by the boards. "I got that one covered."
Irvine twisted around, gliding backwards. "Okay, now jus' push your feet out one at a time, forward and a bit sideways."
Seifer pushed himself away from the boards, taking a few hesitant and shaky strides, then grabbed for the boards again. "Remember when I said it was easy?"
"Yup."
"I lied."
Irvine skated back over and held his hands out. "Gimme your hands."
"Why?"
"So you can learn ta skate."
Seifer frowned. "I'm not gonna hold hands with a guy."
"Who's gonna see? Trust me, Seifer, I ain't got no romantic plans on ya. This dick's for chicks."
Seifer gave a quick look around the empty rink and put his hands in Irvine's. Irvine nodded and slowly skated backwards, pulling Seifer with him. "Startin' ta get the feel of it?"
Seifer nodded, giving his skates a slight outward push. "Yeah. Forward and out, forward and out."
"You got it. Okay, I'm gonna let go. Ya ready?"
"I'm ready."
"Ya sure you're ready?"
"I said I was ready."
Irvine let go. Seifer lurched and windmilled his arms, then fell forward, grabbing Irvine by the waist and knocking him to the ice, landing in an awkward position on top of him.
"...Ya weren't ready."
Seifer and Irvine looked at each other, then rolled apart, cracking up as they lay on their backs. "Irvy," snickered Seifer, "If you ever tell anyone about this, I'm gonna rip your head off."
"My lips are sealed. I got my own reputation ta think of." Irvine got up and held his hand down to help Seifer. Seifer nearly pulled him down again as he struggled to get his skates under him, but eventually both were upright again. Irvine took Seifer's hands again. "One more time, and this time don't get physical."
"Fuck you."
"That's jus' what I'm tellin' ya ta avoid." He skated backwards again, this time taking Seifer for a full lap around the rink.
"Okay, I got it now. Let go." Seifer kept his eyes on his feet as Irvine let go of his hands and skated out of the way.
"You're doin' it, Seifer! YAHOO!"
Seifer gave a thumbs up. "Piece of cake."
"...That reminds me, we still gotta get somethin' ta eat."
"Later, I'm skating." Seifer looked up as the boards came closer. "...Irvy? How the hell do you stop?"
"Easy. Turn your skates sideways and lean your weight back." Irvine demonstrated a slightly wobbly hockey stop.
Seifer watched, then tried to emulate the rather complicated move. His skates spun out from under him and, throwing his arms up, he fell on his hip, sliding gracelessly into the boards. "...Easy?"
"It is when you've had some practice." Irvine spun around as the door to the rink opened, a slender figure walking through.
"Irvine? Are you here?"
Irvine tilted his head. "Quisty?"
Quistis stepped into the light, a glint of golden highlights shining on her hair. "Irvine, thank God I found you. We've been looking for you for two days."
