A/N- I really wasn't planning
to write any more to this, so I didn't leave myself a jumping off point...
but between the reviews (arigato to those who R&R'd!) and the alternative
prospect of algebra homework, I decided I might as well at least give it
a shot. *shrugs* This one's from Banksie's POV. I don't think I like third-person
very much.
Disclaimer: Disney still
owns the Ducks. Said Ducks have been returned unharmed.
*****
It's a lot colder out than I expected. I should've worn a heavier coat.
What am I saying? I should've worn a coat, period. But I can't be bothered to go back inside now. It's the first clear night we've had in over a month, and I'm not wasting it. I like to stargaze.
Of course, if they catch me out here, I'm in trouble. It is pretty well past curfew. Something like three hours past.
That's okay, they're not going to find me. Overconfident? Maybe. But it isn't the first night I've been out here. They don't check to make sure nobody's on the roof. I guess they figure the rule against going out on the fire escapes is enough to keep people inside where they're supposed to be.
Yeah, right. If rules worked the way they were supposed to... wait, I don't want to go there, or things end up with Coach Bombay not driving drunk, the Ducks not existing, the Hawks never winning because they couldn't cheat... and there I go again.
I should know, by now, that when I'm alone I think too much. I turn my attention back to the stars and try to pick out Canis Major. Is it even visible this time of year?
I said I like to stargaze, I never said I know anything about it.
Things with the Ducks have been going very well. It's a nice change. But there are times I really wish Charlie hadn't found my sketchbook. Sure, he's a lot nicer now, and the rest of the team is too. They follow his lead sometimes without even knowing it. And yet... he acts so strange around me.
I know why. And it's exasperating.
It was an impulse. I was lonely, I was frustrated, I was hurt, and I wasn't thinking straight. I would never really want to... kill myself... I'm not like that. Charlie should never have found out about it. Sure, a lot of what was in that book might have worried him, but I know what it was that made him treat me the way he does now.
Friendly on the surface. But always careful. So careful... like he's afraid to upset me. Like I'll shatter if he makes a wrong move.
I won't break so easily.
Naturally, it's all been illustrated. Life without drawing is almost as impossible for me to imagine as life without hockey. I have my sketchbook with me right now, actually. I give up my search for Scorpio and start to work.
I always write the entries first. It's best to get the hard part over with.
"I'm as normal as you are, Charlie. You've had those days when you just don't think you can handle it anymore, I know you have. Don't treat me differently. I did forgive you, Charlie, even if I never told you. But I was hoping you would be my friend again. Not my keeper. Stop trying to protect me. I don't need protection. Just trust me when I say that everything's all right now. That's all I ask."
Now that I think about it, Charlie and I are more alike than I realized. He saw everything fall apart earlier this year, just as I did. Only from opposite sides of the field. Probably, he thought about giving up, just as I did.
I wonder how he handled it? Did he also...
NO! I'm not even going to begin to go there! Charlie has too much confidence for that. And he has too much going for him. Charlie wouldn't.
He probably thought the same about me. But that's where we're so different. He's confident. I'm only determined. He decides he's going to do something and truly believes he'll do it. I decide to do something and keep insisting I will, but... I'll believe it when I see it.
I envy Charlie. He probably doesn't realize it, but he has everything. Everything important. People like him. People trust him. He's a good leader, and a good friend. And the Ducks would never turn on him... like they did to me.
And I envy him for that.
Weird, isn't it? I'm the rich kid of the team, I'm the one who's supposed to have everything, aren't I? I guess... that's what I'm here for. There's got to be someone to rally around, that's Charlie. There's got to be someone that everything bad happens to, and that's me.
It's not that I'm feeling sorry for myself, because I'm not. Or I'd like to think not. I never wanted to fit the rich-kid stereotype anyway. Maybe that's the problem, I've subconsciously turned myself into a misery magnet. But it's an accurate philosophy, isn't it? Expect the worst, and things will always be better than you expected.
I've got to stop thinking like that.
I know Aquila's got to be up there somewhere. I put down my sketchbook—half of my picture seems to have drawn itself—and start searching.
The stars are so bright. So warm. And here it is so dark. So cold. And both places are more or less empty.
The thought is pretty depressing, even for one of my philosophy kicks. Naturally, though, once I think it I can't get it out of my head. So I go back to drawing.
I never really know what a picture will end up as until it's finished. It's really very strange. I can only draw well if I'm not trying to.
This is shaping up to be another of those symbolic ones. Symbolism irks me. So why do I find myself drawing so much of it?
I finish. Two Ducks. One is carefully edging around the other. From the shading, I think I meant for the other to be glass. It looks more or less indignant.
Disgustingly symbolic.
I've been so wrapped up in my thoughts and my drawing that I didn't even notice I have company. "When are you going to start telling me how you feel and stop making your art do the talking?"
If I wasn't lying flat on my stomach I would've jumped ten feet in the air. Which would be bad, because I probably would've landed on Charlie, the way he's leaning over me. "What are you doing here?" I was trying not to sound too panicked, but... it didn't work.
"Sorry I startled you... I couldn't sleep. I come up here sometimes when I'm not tired. What about you?"
"Stargazing." He gives me a suspicious look. "Seriously. I just got a little sidetracked."
"Clearly." He frowns. "You didn't answer my first question."
First question? Oh, right. "I don't intentionally make the art do the talking."
"Even worse." He looks at me, sadly. "Don't say that everything's okay, because if it was okay you wouldn't have had to write that. Don't ask me to trust you unless you'll trust me."
I consider that for a minute. Maybe he's right. I have been a bit of a hypocrite... "All right. Not that it matters now, you already know what I have to say."
Charlie nods. "I guess... I was just a little more shaken than I thought. I didn't even realize I was acting different." He sighs. "We've got a long way to go before we can be friends like we were before, you know."
Don't say that, Charlie. I don't want to hear that. Even though I know you're right. Don't say it, it makes everything too real.
"We can be friends again." I pick up the desperation in my voice. It wasn't supposed to be there.
"We can..." He stares straight into my eyes, and I flinch. "You don't trust me."
Of course I do, Charlie, don't be an idiot. I trust you... no. That's not right. Maybe I really don't. But it's not your fault. Do I trust anybody anymore? Or have I been betrayed one too many times? Is it too late? Is it ever too late?
Am I crying?
Yeah. I'm crying. I don't want to lose my only friend tonight.
Except I already have. He said he hasn't been my friend. We haven't gotten that far.
I can hardly bring myself to look at him. He's upset, very. "Adam." How about that, someone actually realizes I have a first name. "We've got a lot to work out."
"Yeah."
"Promise me something."
"Yeah?" I wish I could say something more intelligent.
"If I hurt your feelings again, would you let me know, instead of making me play guessing games until I catch you drawing?"
I stare at him. Not too long ago, I would've had no problem answering yes to that. But what am I supposed to say now? "...Sure."
"You're lying." Somehow, even though it was a bad, thoroughly unconvincing attempt at a lie, I'm a little annoyed that he caught it. "Will you at least try?"
He means it. I realize it with a bit of a shock. He really means it. And... he's gone through a lot because of me, just as I've gone through a lot because of him. I owe him this much. I've forgiven him, now it's time to trust him again.
"I'll try."
"It's a start." He smiles at me. "Now come on. You're going to get sick if you stay up here much longer."
He's probably right, so I grab my sketchbook and allow him to lead me back down the fire escape into the building. On the way in I take one last look at the sky, and I finally see something.
Cygnus.
The Greeks saw it as a bird. The Romans saw it as a swan. The Arabs saw it as a hen... but me? I've got to say, from where I'm standing, it looks a lot like a duck.