November 1981
The deep rhythmic pounding that echoed across his senses drew him out of an odd dream involving an argument on style between Chaucer and Shakespeare that, for some unfathomable reason, had been taking place in annoyingly verbose verse. He blinked owlishly at his ceiling, the need for more sleep dragging at his eyelids, and guessing the sound had been nothing more than some unusual facet of his dream when it repeated. A loud banging coming from somewhere downstairs and accompanied by what sounded like a voice.
Tossing off the covers with a groan, he began hopping about as soon as his feet hit the cold wood of the floor; winter was looking to arrive early this year, if he was any judge. Yawning hugely and scratching absently at the back of his head he stumbled down the steps and to the front door. He froze in shock as the mystery voice called his name.
"Darien, please I..."
He undid the locks and flung the door open to find Michele standing there shivering in a tank top and shorts and looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. "'Chele? What the..." His words were cut off as she flung herself at him, her arms wrapping about him in a death grip as she began babbling incoherently.
"Whoa. Slow down. What are you doing here?" He gently pushed her away from him so that he could get a look at her. The last time he'd had a girl friend this freaked was after her father had sexually abused her. Poor Kelly had been dead less than six months later.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to go. When they..." she stopped as a sob of pure despair escaped. "I needed a friend to... to..."
Darien figured out right then that there something was seriously wrong. "'Chele what happened?"
"They're dead," she told him at a harsh whisper, as if the words were dragged by force past her throat. "Took hours for the idiots at the airport to tell me what was going on and when they did ... I just got in my car and drove here. I... I didn't want to be alone."
Darien was feeling quite confused by this point. "Who 'Chele? Who's dead?" He was still uncertain what she was talking about.
"My parents. Their pl...pl...plane went d...down. There were n...n...no s...s...survivors," she stuttered out as the tears finally began to fall.
"Oh crap," he muttered softly as her knees chose that moment to buckle. He didn't let her go, just followed her along until they were both seated on the floor his arms holding her close as he tried to absorb her words and deal with the aftermath.
Seconds later, a hand on his shoulder nearly caused him to shout in fright. He snapped his head about to see his Uncle Peter standing there with one of the spare down comforters in his hands. "I heard. Think you can carry her?"
Darien nodded, she'd never weighed more than a bird and with the additional height he'd gained over the last few months she'd be no trouble at all. Shifting her as she continued to sob against his chest, he got his arms under her and stood up slowly. She seemed oblivious to what was going on at the moment, her despair making her blind to everything about her. Peter draped the comforter about the both of them, realizing as Darien did that 'Chele was chilled to the bone in her southern California clothing.
"Take her to the spare room. I'll be along in a minute."
Darien did as asked, heard his uncle shut and lock the front door before heading off, presumably to get his medical bag. Darien mounted the steps cautiously, turned left at the top and to the spare room. Bumping the door open with his hip he carried 'Chele to the bed and, after a moment's debate about putting her down alone, sat down on the bed and kept a hold on her. He scooted back as best he could until he was resting against the headboard and rearranged the comforter until it covered both of them a bit better. He was hoping the heat from his body would assist in convincing her shivering and chilled one to warm up a bit faster while they waited for his uncle to show.
'Chele's crying had slowed to a ragged hitching as she tried to get enough air and a fair portion of his shirt was noticeably damp by this point, but he didn't care. "Ah 'Chele, I'm so sorry." He understood exactly what she was going through, the gut wrenching pain and the deep sense of loss that losing one's parents puts someone through. He'd been there himself, twice.
Peter showed up then with his little used medical bag, set it down on the bed and began to pull out various items. With a swift efficiency that surprised Darien, Peter took 'Chele's blood pressure, pulse and temperature all without saying a single word to either of them until he was finished.
Pulling out a vial and syringe that made Darien want to crawl away, Peter spoke softly, "Michele, I want to give you something that will let you rest for a while."
Much to Darien's amazement - he'd thought she was asleep - she turned her head and spoke in a rough voice, "Are you gonna make me leave?"
Peter shook his head. "No, you're welcome to stay as long as you need to. You just need to rest for a while." He showed her the syringe containing whatever had been in the vial and she nodded. She didn't even move as Peter injected the contents into her upper arm.
"Hmmm, sedative, probably phenobarbitol," she mumbled, her words beginning to slur as the drug took effect. "Dare, please stay. I don' wanna be 'lone."
Darien looked at his uncle, who nodded.
"I'm going to make some calls. Find out if what she said is true." Peter put away the items that lay spread across the bed and then got to his feet.
"You think she's lying?" Darien asked, incredulous.
"No, but I'm hoping the information she was given was incorrect. Try and get some sleep. Busy day tomorrow."
"I will," Darien replied around a yawn as his Uncle Peter left the room, shutting the door partway behind him. Moving slowly Darien got the two of them repositioned a bit more comfortably so that they were both lying beneath the heavy comforter. "Some Thanksgiving."
***
The room was a dim gray when Darien was awoken again; the clock hadn't been set recently so he was unsure if it was early morning or if it was late and had clouded over. He had a vague memory of the weatherman mentioning a front moving in. 'Chele was lying atop him, her head on his chest, and holding a section of his thermal shirt in one tightly closed fist.
There was a soft knock on the door and Darien realized that another one like it must have been what woke him up. He cleared his throat, not really wanting anyone to see him sleeping with a girl, even if it was 'Chele, but knowing he didn't have much choice right at the moment. "Uh, yeah?"
The door opened and Peter stepped in, staying across the room. "I need to speak to you."
Darien nodded, gently freed 'Chele's grip from his shirt and slipped out from under her. She muttered something unintelligible and whimpered. Darien brushed a stray curl off her face and whispered, "'Sokay, I'll be right back." He smiled slightly when she sighed and settled back into a deeper sleep.
Seeing the look on his uncle's face, Darien knew the news was bad. "Well?" he asked as they exited the room and began to walk down the hallway.
"I made some calls, talked with her brother Patrick. The information she was given appears to be accurate. The plane Joshua and Emilia were on went down just over the Nevada/California border in the mountains near Death Valley." Peter stopped before the game room and waved Darien inside and sat down, gesturing for Darien to do the same. He did after a moment, looking and feeling stunned.
"Crap," Darien muttered, and ran a shaky hand through his hair. The situation just brought so many memories back to the surface, few good. "So now what?"
"Patrick will be here by Saturday, possibly Michael as well. I told him she's welcome to stay as long as she needs." Peter rubbed his eyes and looked incredibly tired for a long moment, and Darien suddenly realized his uncle had lost two of his friends in this accident. "Are you going to be all right?"
Darien was surprised at the concern in his uncle's voice, not thinking that his uncle would even notice that the situation might be bothering Darien. "I... Yeah. I'll do what I can, but I know how hard it is to deal with at first."
Peter got slowly to his feet and patted Darien on the shoulder. "Just be there for her. Be her friend, that's what she needs most right now. Go get cleaned up, your aunt is still going to expect your help even with Michele here."
Darien groaned and stood as well. It wasn't that he really minded helping with the Thanksgiving preparations. He kind of liked it, in fact. But he couldn't let them know that without ruining his façade of uncooperativeness. 'Chele being here just altered his focus a bit. "Gimme 15, okay?"
Pete nodded and left the room to, most likely, make a few more phone calls dealing with the apparent death of 'Chele's parents. Darien ran his hands through his hair as he glanced out the window and noticed that it had indeed clouded over. It looked dreary enough that he was willing to bet it would be raining by noon.
Going past Kevin's room Darien heard his brother snoring away, but it was a good bet Kevin would be up soon as he was expected to help out as well. Darien grabbed a change of clothes from his room and then made a valiant attempt to use up all the hot water so that when his brother showered all he'd have was tepid at best. Once he was dressed and his hair was acceptable, Darien went to check on 'Chele. He was surprised to find her awake, but staring blankly at the wall before her.
"Hey you, I gotta help my aunt for an hour or so, will you be okay?" He wished he could do more for her, but, as his uncle said, just being here should help somewhat. She had come to him after all, that must mean even she thought he'd be able to help her get through this.
"No," she admitted honestly. "I think I'll just pretend to sleep a bit more, if that's okay."
"Sure, whatever you need." Acting on his sudden urge, he set the knuckles of his right hand against her cheek. She snaked one of her hands out to hold his and he gasped at how chilled she still was.
"I'm sorry, Dare. I just didn't know where else to go." She sounded so very lost that Darien was reluctant to leave her alone for even the short time his aunt would be wanting his help. She released him and rolled away from him, curling up into a ball.
"I'll be back soon."
She nodded slightly and though he wanted to say something, anything to make it better he also knew he couldn't. As expected Darien spent a little over an hour helping his Aunt Celia prepping some of the dishes for the feast. As his shift ended Kev wandered in impeccably dressed in a white oxford and neatly pressed black slacks, grouching about the lack hot water and leveling a glare at Darien over the top of his glasses. Celia had learned a long time ago that it was easier to have the brothers work in shifts than to try to convince them to work together for more than five minutes without a fight or argument breaking out.
Darien washed his hands, dried them on a towel, grabbed a couple of apples and ran from the room with a hasty, "Hey, Kev." He didn't slow down, rushing up the stairs two at a time and skidding to a halt outside her room. He knocked on it and after a second, when there was no response, poked his head in and looked about. He was shocked to see that the room appeared to be empty. "'Chele?" He noticed the comforter was gone as well, but he couldn't imagine her just wandering off.
He checked the bathrooms, Kev's room, even his own bedroom getting more worried by the moment. Just about the time he was going to head downstairs to let Celia know 'Chele was missing he noticed the window in the upstairs playroom was open a couple of inches, just enough to allow a chill breeze in to tease his ankles and toes. He rubbed the fog off the glass and looked out to see 'Chele sitting just a few feet away. Putting one of the apples between his teeth, he opened the window and climbed out. He settled down next to her, bit through his apple, chewed and swallowed before speaking.
"So you found my spot, huh?" He handed her the other apple, which she took after a moment.
She held up the apple and examined it minutely before deciding to do nothing, making it vanish under the blanket. "Well, the conveniently placed tree kinda gives it away." She rubbed the side of her face and shifted slightly. "You always did have a head for heights." Her voice lowered to a mumble as she stared out across the backyard. "Sorry about ruining your holiday."
"You didn't. Livened it up a bit in fact," Darien said around a mouthful of apple. They sat in silence for a while, him munching on the apple, until the sound of chattering teeth - hers - got his attention. "Time for you to head in."
"W...w...why?"
"'Cause your nose is redder than your hair," he told her with a grin.
She shook her head. "Not ready to yet." She pulled the comforter a bit closer about herself. "You ever have really vivid dreams?"
Darien thought about it for a minute before answering. "Yeah, sometimes." The nightmares he'd had after his mom's death has lingered for years; he could still call them up if really wanted to.
"I started having this dream two weeks ago, one about... about the plane going down." She barely got the words out past her chattering teeth and Darien suspected it was more than just the cold that was causing it. "I... I saw them die."
"'Chele,"
But it was as if she hadn't even heard him. "I even told them about it, told them to wait, to come out at Christmas instead, but they said I was just being silly. That it was nothing but a dream and didn't mean anything." She broke out in harsh laughter. "I wish. I wish it were nothing more than a bad dream. Give anything for it to be nothing but a dream."
Darien recognized the sound of an impending crying jag and ignored the almost mandatory urge to roll his eyes and move away from her. Instead he scooted closer, wrapped his arm about her and pulled her to him. "S'alright."
'Chele didn't resist his hold and turned her head to bury it against his shoulder for long minutes until she had cried herself out and her breathing was a harsh hitching in her chest. Her voice was raw when she finally pulled herself together enough to speak. "You must hate when I act like such a girl."
"I'll forgive you since you are a girl and all," Darien told her and smiled as she laughed, coughed and sniffled all at the same time. Diving into the pocket of his jeans he came up with a handkerchief and handed it to her.
"Thanks," she mumbled as she took it from him. She wiped her eyes and hiccupped as she slowly regained control. If she was going to say anything else it was lost in the shout from below them.
"Darien!"
"What?" Darien shouted back.
"Darien, where the heck are you?" Kevin appeared in the yard below them, looking about in confusion.
"Bro, look up." Darien shook his head, not impressed with Kevin's observational skills.
Kevin spun about and tipped his head back to see them. "Darien, Peter is going to ground you again for being up there." Only then did he seem to notice Michele. "Oh! 'Chele you're up there too." He shifted his glasses and managed to look properly embarrassed. "Aren't you cold?"
"F...f...f...freezing," she admitted.
"Well shorts and tank tops ain't nearly warm enough here this time of year. Town ain't called Cold Springs for nothin'." Darien pondered the situation for a minute. "I can probably scrounge up something for you to borrow, considerin' I've outgrown so much this past year and I doubt you thought to pack."
'Chele shifted and a second later dangled a set of keys from her hand. Keys that Darien knew went to the cute little VW bug she'd gotten for her birthday not even a month ago. She'd gotten her driver's license just days after turning 16. "Bags are in the trunk. We were gonna drive down to San Diego from the airport, spend the week seeing the sights there." Darien rubbed her back gently, fully understanding how hard it was for her to talk about.
Taking the keys from her, he looked down at his brother who was waiting on the dead grass down below. "Do me a favor, Kev?"
Kevin's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What?"
Darien tossed the keys, which Kevin caught with only a slight bobble. "Get 'Chele's bags from her car, please?"
Kevin looked like he was going to toss the keys right back at Darien, but a glance over at 'Chele combined with the rarely heard 'please' from Darien must have swayed him. "Sure. I'll take them up to her room." He began to leave, but paused. "May I suggest you get her inside before she becomes hypothermic?"
"Yes, Dr. Fawkes," Darien sniped, earning another glare for the collection.
'Chele smacked Darien weakly on the arm once Kevin had left. "Don't tease him, Dare. You might need him to save your ass one day and you don't want him holding a grudge." 'Chele finished up her admonition with a sneeze.
"But he can be such a tight-wad," Darien argued good naturedly, making her snicker. "He's right though, you should get inside and warm up." He allowed just a touch of concern to seep into his words, enough to let her know he was really worried.
"Yeah, I suppose so," she agreed and permitted him to assist her as they climbed back in through the window.
Celia happened to be walking by the playroom as they made their grand entrance and she immediately went to the pair. "Darien, what on earth were you thinking?"
"M...my idea, Celia," 'Chele said through her shivers. "S...sorry."
Celia went to the obviously chilled girl and wrapped an arm about her shoulders. "Hush, my dear, I'm not angry. Come now, let's get you into a hot bath before you catch your death..."
Darien groaned audibly at his aunt's poor choice of words. "'Chele..."
"It's all right, Darien. Go and try to enjoy your holiday." 'Chele set a hand on his arm and he surprised himself by covering it with one of his own, noticing it was like touching an ice cube.
"I'll be around, just holler if you need me." Darien nodded towards 'Chele, hoping she would know that he meant every word.
"Darien, if you would help Kevin in the kitchen while I get Shelly settled I would greatly appreciate it." Celia made it clear that Darien had no choice in the matter.
"Ahh, I'll just go do that." Darien pointed in the direction of the stairs and shuffled away to the sound of 'Chele chuckling followed shortly by another sneeze. By the time reached the head of the staircase he could hear Celia fussing over 'Chele in that way only his aunt could manage.
Trotting into the kitchen he saw Kevin standing there looking over the neatly piled vegetables on the counter. Kevin glanced at Darien with a blank look.
"I'll take the carrots and you take the potatoes?" Kevin suggested.
"Sure." Darien walked to the pile of potatoes, which put the huge double sink between him and his brother, picked up the paring knife, a potato, and began to peel off the tough skin. He kept himself amused by attempting to remove the skin in one long continuous strip, much like one would with an apple.
After about 10 minutes with no noise other than the sound of metal scraping against starchy flesh, Kevin spoke up in a soft voice. "Is 'Chele okay?"
Darien shrugged, set down the stripped spud and picked up another. "Were you?"
"Eventually," Kevin stated as he continued peeling the carrot in his hand.
"So won't she ... eventually."
***
The table was set perfectly as always, the napkins precisely folded into artistic shapes thanks to Darien, the candles flickering gently in the subtle breeze created by the heating system kicking on. The table was lined with all the traditional foods, the huge turkey at the head of the table waiting to be carved by Peter. Outside the gloom had deepened and rain had begun to fall, rain that might very well become the first snowfall of the year if it continued into the overnight hours. Oddly appropriate for both the holiday and the unexpected news of early that morning.
Kevin was shifting impatiently in his seat, the seemingly endless wait getting the better of his usual patience. "Can we please eat? I'm starving."
"Just as soon as..." Celia began in an admonishing tone just as Darien and 'Chele entered the room. "Ah, here they are now." Celia got to her feet and bustled about. "Darien, you sit in your usual spot, Shelly you may sit here."
'Chele sat midway down on one side of the table while the two brothers sat beside each other across from her. "Sorry we took so long, but I was still cold," she explained as Celia returned to her seat.
"I loaned her a sweater." Darien shrugged. "Not like it fits me any more." Sadly true; the black v-neck sweater had been his favorite all last winter, but now, while dainty Michele was swallowed up by it, it was far too small on his current frame. When he'd tried it on a couple weeks ago it had been uncomfortably tight and the sleeves had been miles too short.
"That was very kind of you, Darien," Celia commented. "Peter, if you would begin."
Darien had warned 'Chele about the yearly tradition of each person listing a couple of things they were thankful for in the past year. He personally thought it was pretty stupid, but always managed to come up with something to say that satisfied his aunt and uncle. He had assured 'Chele that she would not be expected to participate and was prepared to intervene on her behalf if any attempt was made.
Through most of it he watched her as she sat staring with seeming fascination at her hands that lay beneath the table edge in her lap. Her hair was pulled back into a loose braid, stray curls escaping to hang about her face and move in the gentle breeze blowing through the room, she was drawn and pale under the tan, and her eyes, on the few occasions she glanced his way, were dull with pain and unshed tears.
For a change when his turn came he didn't have to fumble for what to say even though, until that moment, he'd not had any idea what words would come from within. "I'm thankful that I have someone who trusts me enough to come to me for help, for encouraging me to try especially when I don't want to, for being there when I need someone to talk to. Heck, for putting up with me." 'Chele had lifted her head and was staring at Darien with her eyes wide in astonishment. "And I am very thankful she's here with us today, though the circumstances behind it are so sad." He winked at her and she managed a sad smile in return. "'When one is grateful for something too good for common thanks, writing is less unsatisfactory than speech - one does not, at least, hear how inadequate the words are.' George Eliot."
He turned to his uncle, who nodded to let Darien know he was off the hook for another year.
As Peter stood to carve the turkey, Kevin kicked Darien in the shin and whispered, "Crap, Darien, you'd think you had a crush on her or something." Kevin then proceeded to make kissy noises with all the maturity of a five year old until Darien returned the kick. "Ow!" Kevin complained glaring at his younger brother who kept his own look completely innocent.
"Boys," Celia warned.
"Yes, ma'am," they said in unison, making 'Chele chuckle and try to hide it behind a manufactured cough.
Celia leaned towards 'Chele in a conspiratorial manner and said, "Every year it's the same; they bicker and fight all the way through dinner and then fall asleep in the den while watching a football game."
"That's not true," Kevin argued defensively.
"Hey, that's, like, a lie," Darien squalled at almost the exact same time.
'Chele didn't bother hiding the laughter this time and soon everyone had joined in. For short while they were all able to be thankful they were together and forget the circumstances that had caused it.
***
After wolfing down two full plates of food, Darien noticed that 'Chele had done nothing more than push her tiny portions about the plate for the last 15 minutes. He debated for an instant having some more turkey and sweet potatoes, but decided he could wait and 'Chele couldn't. "May I be excused?"
"Of course," Peter said with a nod, only appearing slightly surprised at Darien's sudden politeness.
Darien put his napkin on the table and got to his feet. He even remembered to slide the chair back into place before walking around the table to stand behind 'Chele. He set a hand on her shoulder and crouched down so that she had to look down slightly to see him. "Come on, that food ain't gonna get any more exciting."
'Chele set her fork down on the side of the plate with a sigh and looked over at Celia. "Sorry, I'm just not feeling very hungry right now."
"It's all right, Shelly. Why don't you head into the den and watch some TV. Kevin can help with the clean up."
Kevin opened his mouth to protest, but a withering glance from Celia kept him silent.
Darien escorted 'Chele from the dining room and to the other side of the house where the den was located. She stood just inside the doorway as Darien went to the huge console television and turned it on. It was ancient, but still got a pretty decent picture. He flipped through several channels until he found the football game.
"Sit you. You look like you're about to fall over."
It took her a moment to even register the fact that he'd spoken to her based on her blank look. "Dare?" she asked in a lost voice.
He walked over to her, took one of her hands and tugged her into motion. She stumbled along behind him, not really seeing anything as she tried to deal with the sudden and unexpected loss in her life. Getting her to sit on the sofa he watched as she curled up in one corner staring at the TV without really seeing it. Sprawling in his usual spot his eyes kept flicking from the TV, to her and back again as her continued silence began to worry him. "I can find something else if you want." In truth the game didn't really interest him this year.
"It's fine. I like football, remember?" she responded in a monotone.
Scratching his ear, he contemplated how to draw her out of this sudden blue funk before she fell too far to come back. He remembered all the buzzwords from when he went through it and knew that emotional shock could easily deteriorate into actual shock and require her to head to the hospital in hopes of bringing her back. "Michele,"
"How'd you get through it?" she suddenly asked at a bare whisper.
"I don't really know." He'd been both fearing and hoping she'd start talking to him even though he knew it would bring up memories that still hurt. "I was a lot younger than you are and I really didn't understand what was going on at first. Like when my dad left." He shifted to sit sideways, drawing one leg up onto the sofa and resting one arm along the back. "I mostly remember being so angry at her for leaving. I even went so far as to throw away just about every picture of her I could find." He shook his head as he remembered those horrific days of confusion and loneliness. "I'm not sure what I was thinking."
"You thought that since she didn't want you any more that you didn't want her either," 'Chele told him in a soft voice.
He just stared at her in shock, her words making perfect sense. "How...?"
"Psych class. Required course. Not uncommon behavior for anyone after a major loss." Her tone was perfectly flat, no emotion, no inflection to the words, none of her usual color. She'd pulled the sleeves down over her hands and was rubbing them together as if unable to get them warm. "It hurts, Darien. This deep ache that I'm afraid to examine too closely 'cause I know the wound underneath might never heal."
He recognized that tone, that look, had seen it on Kevin's face for many long months after their mom had died. It had taken Uncle Peter catching Kev's interest with some experiment for it to begin to fade and for the real Kevin to rejoin the world. Though there were times Darien wondered if Kev had just changed the focus of his pain, that, instead of shutting it all within himself, he vented the frustration and pain in the work, the science.
Darien reached out to 'Chele and drew her closer; she didn't resist, but neither did she help. He rested his forehead against hers. "'Chele, you are my best friend in the world, I don' wanna lose you too."
She wasn't crying, her despair and pain having moved beyond her ability to shed tears. She'd gone numb instead, trying to not let anything affect her, but Darien was hoping he could. "It gets better, I swear it does, but you gotta give it time."
She shuddered in his gentle hold, as if trying to resist the pull of his words. "Dare," she whispered, "you're my best friend too."
He gave her a wry smile. "I know. Now, even I can tell you are exhausted..."
"I don't want to be alone," she protested, the words conveying the depth of her pain to his heart.
"Then you won't be." He shifted to sit at the far end of the sofa and moved a couple of the throw pillows to rest against his thigh. "Lay down. I'll be right here."
She didn't hesitate more than a second and, even stretched out, her feet just barely bumped the arm of the other end. He allowed his arm to drape across her torso and didn't even flinch when she grabbed it and held on tight. He was... honored that he was able to help her in some small way.
"Thanks, Darien."
"Anytime."
Minutes later her grip loosened as she relaxed completely into an emotionally exhausted slumber. Moving carefully, he grabbed the blanket that was lying on the back of the sofa and covered her with it. Then he attempted to turn his focus back to the game on TV.
He caught himself playing with the loose curls of her hair, something he'd always wanted to do, although it had always seemed a bit too presumptuous of him to try and there was no way he could ask permission without feeling like a fool. He'd stop himself only to find his fingers once again entwined with the bright red locks only minutes later. Finally he just gave in and reveled in the feel of the soft curls.
Kevin wandered in just as half time was beginning bearing tray with pie and milk for three. He didn't seem very surprised to find Michele asleep or the fact that she was all but using Darien as her pillow. He set the tray down on the long coffee table in front of the sofa that Darien's feet were resting on, and moved one plate and glass to the side table by Darien's elbow.
"Thanks, Kev," Darien said softly and, for a change, meaning the words.
"Aunt Celia figured you'd be hungry by now since lately you seem to be a bottomless pit," Kevin commented as he grabbed his own plate and glass and sat down in a nearby chair.
Darien freed his fingers from 'Chele's hair and wrangled the pie closer. Pumpkin with whipped cream and that extra dash of cinnamon on top, just the way he liked it. He tried to go slow, but he was, as his aunt had surmised, starved and the slice vanished in three massive bites followed quickly by the glass of milk. He managed to contain the belch and emitted a sigh of contentment.
Kevin must have noticed when Darien's fingers slid back into 'Chele's curls to begin their aimless twirling of them again.
"You really like her don't you?"
Darien gave Kevin a confused look. "Of course I like her, she's my friend." He made it plain that it should have been obvious to Kevin after all this time.
Kevin shook his head. "No. I mean you like her."
Darien opened his mouth to protest, but stopped, for some reason not wanting to give voice to words he had just realized would be a lie. "Yeah, I guess I do." He shrugged. "Not that it matters. Being her friend is what's important."
Kevin did a double take. "When did you suddenly get so smart?"
Darien grinned, finding this question easy to answer with the truth. "When I agreed to some mutual corruption." Kevin's look of complete confusion only served to make Darien's grin broader.
