--
---Chapter Fifteen: Improvement?---
--
I put down my heavy suitcase in the bedroom that I was to share with Fiona (urgh!). We were staying at a friend's of David's. They were an old couple that didn't have any children, and they seemed incredibly kind and good-hearted, judging from their warmth and friendliness in greeting Fiona and I at the airport several hours ago. Their house was also located not far from where I used to live, something I considered to be both a blessing and a curse.
"Are you guys settled in?" Betty asked, sticking her head in. She had a weary face capped with smooth gray hair. I think she may have once been beautiful, since her features had the shadow of magnificence in the set of her nose and shape of her mouth. But the relentless flow of time had worn her features down, and wrinkles now covered the face that must have once been stunning. Charles, Betty's husband, still acted young, though his hair was falling out and he had as many wrinkles as Betty. I felt sorry for the pair of them. Since they seemed so eager to take Fiona and me in, it seemed as if they had wanted children, but hadn't been able to have any.
"Yeah," Fiona replied immediately. "This is great!"
"Good," Betty replied, smiling at Fiona. "Now why don't you two go ahead and go meet your friends? I'm sure they're all dying to meet you."
"'Kay!" Fiona said thankfully, bounding out of the room. I followed her with thanks to Betty. After I got out of the house, I saw Fiona down the street with her best friend Tina. I watched Fiona for a second before turning away.
I slowly roamed the familiar streets where I had so often walked when I just needed to get out of my house. So many things caught my eye—things I had never noticed before, like the way a tree filled a space and the way the sidewalk curved and the way everything just melded together to form a setting familiar. I carefully avoided my old neighborhood, and I hid my face, not wanting anyone to see me and pity me. And most of all, I didn't want Diana or Henry to catch sight of me. I'd be satisfied if I never saw them again in my life.
I passed by few people, since other people rarely traversed upon the residential streets. I ambled along, taking the time to savor everything I saw, every single detail that I hadn't ever thought I'd see again. I lifted my head and drank in the air and looked up at the sky until I thought I'd fall right into the vast blueness.
During my absence, my memories of this place had blurred and run together into a huge, indistinguishable mess. But now I was slowly detaching separate things from the mix and identifying it once again….
Unconsciously, my footsteps took me along a familiar route, a route I had traveled so often that I didn't have any trouble remembering it at all. Soon I found myself in front of Andrew's house. I felt my throat tighten at the sight of the two-story house with chipping white paint and huge windows. There was a huge persimmon tree in their front yard, and climbing roses lined the side of their house, their prickly branches almost hugging the walls, acting as protective barriers.
It brought back so many images so quickly that I almost lost my balance as my mind went on rewind.
---Flashback---
"You want to come in, Faye?" Andrew asked shyly, pushing his thick glasses higher up on his nose.
"Sure." I shrugged, eager to find something—anything—that would keep me away from home longer.
--
I stole a furtive look around me before reaching over Andrew's back yard fence (it was so short that I wondered why he hadn't had a robbery yet) and undid the lock. Then I slipped inside quietly, shifting Fiona's violin—now mine!—in my grip.
--
"Seeya later!" I yelled, walking backwards and waving to Andrew. Though I put on a cheery face, I was anything but. I almost couldn't bear to leave his house, knowing I had to go back to my own.
But I forced myself to turn forward and maintain a bouncy stride back to my own, customized hellhole that I was forced to call home.
--
"It's Christmas!" I hollered up at Andrew through cupped hands. He was half hanging out of his window, looking harassed. It was a good thing that his window faced the street or I'd always have to climb into his backyard to yell up at him. "Are you done partying? Let's go have some real fun!"
He nodded hastily, and his dark head retreated back into the house. This was the first Christmas that I spent outside Drake's. I'd been forced out of there because the stupid staff was doing "renovations." Like that'd help the school any.
This Christmas was particularly horrible since I had to be at home. And Henry and Diana had practically kicked me out of the house, threatening me nastily. So I came and hung around Andrew's house like some sort of stalker, enviously listening to the warm chatter and happy voices inside.
The slam of the door and Andrew approaching me interrupted my thoughts. He had his lopsided grin on, and his glasses were slipping down his nose again.
"So, where to?" he asked, a jaunty smile in place.
"Anywhere but here," I replied matter-of-factly.
We shared a grin before we both took off down the street, hollering like maniacs.
--
I poked around Andrew's front yard, looking for a small stone. It was midnight, time for our pre-planned Losers' Night Out. I couldn't ring the doorbell, since his parents would wake up and demand answers as to why I was at their house at 12 at night. And since I was always out of my house anyway, I came to pick Andrew up.
Finally, I found a rock big enough to make a sound on the window and small enough so that it wouldn't break the window. Taking aim, I threw it as hard as I could at Andrew's window. When nothing happened, several more small rocks followed.
The window jerked open just as a rock was sailing in, and I had to bite back a shriek of laughter when I made out Andrew holding a hand to his forehead and mouthing bad words at me. Gesturing, I told him (we had developed a body language of sorts) to come down here right now. He shook his head and disappeared from the window.
Moments later, the front door creaked open quietly, and Andrew came towards me quietly, stealthily, with the air of a rat creeping by a sleeping cat.
I grinned at him. "Took you long enough. I almost thought you were asleep and forgot our designated night out."
"Would I ever do that?" Andrew drawled. "Remember, I have flawless memory." His glasses lens flashes in the moonlight as he turned his head.
"Heh," I snorted. "How could I ever forget?"
He shoved me playfully, but I had to bite my bottom lip to keep a hiss of pain from escaping. The last encounter I had had with my family hadn't… gone well.
--
"Someday, I'm going to grow up and move far away from here," I announced, wrenching another huge orange persimmon off the tree.
"What? Why?" Andrew asked, startled. I could see the glint of his glasses from behind the leaves of the tree.
"Oh, you know," I shrugged casually. "See new places, meet new people. That sort of thing."
"You don't like living here?" There was anxiousness in his voice that was easily picked up on.
Well, I couldn't downright lie and say I liked it. I hated it. To be fair, however, I didn't hate the time I spent out of school and out of my house. So I settled on an unintelligible mumble.
A silence stretched between us, broken only by the soft thumps of the persimmons we dropped into the basket.
--
"What?" Andrew was floored, flabbergasted. "Why? What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I lied, averting my eyes. For some reason, I had never liked looking at someone in the eyes. It felt so open, too wrong.
--
"Andrew, I'm leaving," I said softly.
"I know," he said. his voice shook. "I hope—I hope you get better. And I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry that you had to go through all that… and I never helped you…"
I could tell that he was silently raging at me for not trusting him—for not telling him, not letting him help me and do what friends were supposed to do for each other.
But I didn't do anything about it. Because I was a coward. The urgent thought of the plane that would take me to England drew me back to what I had to do.
I took an awkward step forward and hugged him lightly, whispering softly, "I'm sorry, too." I wasn't even sure if he heard me. But I couldn't bring myself to repeat it… was it my pride? Or just my stupidity?
Quickly stepping back, I muttered, "Goodbye. We'll… we'll see each other soon. And I'll write to you."
"Yeah…" he answered vaguely, looking away from me. "Yeah."
"I'll…" I started, but I couldn't finish. 'I'll miss you,' was what I wanted to say, but somehow I couldn't say that either, because a huge lump was forming in my throat.
"I'm going to miss you," Andrew said for me, an incipient smile tugging at the corner of his lips as if he knew about the lump in my throat and my refusal to give in to it. "And I'm sorry… about what happened to you. I am so sorry…"
" If you need me, you know I'll always be there for you."
"I know." I cast my gaze to the ground.
"Friends forever?"
I smiled at that overused phrase and lifted my gaze to meet his. "Don't be so corny, Andrew." His face was so anxious that I couldn't just let this moment not be sentimental. "But yeah… friends forever. I'll write. I promise."
---End of Flashback---
Shaking my head a bit remorsefully, I reached out slowly and rang the doorbell. I remembered the exact detail of the doorbell—it was rectangular and made of a translucent white plastic set in a chipping, gold colored rim. It was strange how such random little details had stuck in my memory.
In a matter of seconds I heard footsteps coming towards the door. Anticipation, nervousness, reluctance, and eagerness rose up in a mass turmoil inside me. Andrew's mother, Anita, answered the door. "Faye?" Anita gasped. "Oh, I haven't seen you in ages! Andrew's been miserable without you! Come on in!"
I stepped inside, feeling shy once again even though I had seen and talked with Anita for years.
"Andrew!" Anita yelled in an amazingly loud voice. I had forgotten how loud her voice was. "Faye's back! She's here! Right here!"
There was a great deal of clattering and noise from the second floor. A moment later, a very tall figure came hurtling down the steps, taking two stairs at one time. It would have been very impressive if he had managed to accomplish it. Just as he almost reached the bottom, his foot slipped on a step and toppled over, his arms and legs wind-milling into the air as he fought to control himself. He failed. He fell down the rest of the stairs with many bangs and thuds, and slid on the shiny wooden floor all the way to my feet.
A very red face that was devoid of glasses peered up at me, grinning. "I didn't know you were coming back this summer."
"Andrew?" I gasped. I could hardly believe that this was Andrew. He'd gotten rid of his braces and his glasses, and he'd also been shooting up. He was a heard taller than me. But now his frame wasn't so skinny; he'd filled out during the year I'd been gone. "Is that you?"
He got to his feet, grinning broadly, and engulfed me in a great bear hug. I was too startled too to do anything for a moment. We had never really touched each other in all the years I'd known him, probably because of our different genders. But I overcame my shock hugged him back, suddenly blinking back tears. I saw Anita winking at me, and I rolled my eyes at her good-naturedly. After a while, I just closed my eyes, reveling in the warmth and comfort of his nearness. I'd forgotten how good it felt just to be near him again.
I pulled back first. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was coming back over the summer, but it was on a really short notice, and I didn't think the owl would arrive before me. Andrew, tell me everything! What've you been doing? What've you done to yourself? I can hardly recognize you!"
He grinned at me. I was glad to see that his grin was still exactly the same, lopsided and wry. "Let's go outside and talk. Grab a skateboard." I followed him to his garage, where I automatically grabbed our old skateboards while he put on some shoes.
In a trice, we were out on the street on the skateboards, rolling down the driveway as we headed to the nearby park.
"Really, what's been happening?" I asked him. Andrew glanced sideways at me.
"Oh, just the usual. Those stupid bullies just never seem to get tired of picking on me… it's even harder thinking of paybacks when you're not around," Andrew said, trying to sound nonchalant. But I knew that he had missed me when I was gone. I had to say something to cheer him up.
"It's the same in Hogwarts. Oh my god, those Marauders I told you about…" Andrew nodded, "…They're getting unbearable! I can't stand them, especially those two… Black and Potter…" I shuddered. "Anyway, I'm glad I'm here right now."
"How's Hogwarts?" he asked. I laughed.
"I thought I told you all about it in my letters," I said, shaking my head as we turned a corner.
"But's it's so much different hearing it out of your mouth!" Andrew protested. "Come on!"
"Oh, whatever," I laughed, and proceeded to tell him all about my life at Hogwarts, about Grace and Leah and Lily and Fiona and Bella and Alice and… just everything. We reached the park just as I finished telling him about the strange sunburns all over my skin.
"Blisters?" he asked, concerned. We discarded our skateboards and helmets onto the ground and walked onto the playground sand, heading for the swings with mutual agreement.
"Yeah," I said softly. "I don't get it." Andrew suddenly grabbed my hand and examined it, turning over and everything. "It's not there anymore. It went away. But… whenever I seem to get angry with someone, the sunburns always come back. D'you think that there's something wrong with me?"
"Maybe someone's been jinxing you behind your back," he suggested. That had been what I thought at first… but now I wasn't sure.
"Maybe," I shrugged. "Anyways, there's that guy I told you about, right? The one that won't stop bugging me?"
"Sirius…?" Andrew asked, his face screwed up in concentration.
"Yeah, Sirius Black," I said impatiently. "He totally got me thinking about… well, how I'm not the greatest person around."
Andrew lifted an eyebrow. "So? Not everybody's perfect."
"Yeah… but the things he said really… hit deep," I squirmed uncomfortably, voicing the thoughts that had been bothering me ever since that disastrous day by the lake.
"What did he say?" he asked suspiciously.
"Loads of stuff…" I sighed unhappily. "Self-centered, selfish, narrow-minded, arrogant…"—I noticed the dark expression on Andrew's face—"No, he's not that bad. Honestly. I did say some horrible things to him," I rushed to defend Black.
Wait. Stop. Rewind.
I rushed to defend Black?
"Don't listen to his crap," Andrew ordered.
"You don't understand," I cried. "Black is right. I am a horrible person! I am so selfish, biased, close-minded, short-tempered, hypocritical, vengeful, suspicious, bitter, and… and… just disgusting! I hate myself!" Finished with my outburst, I slumped down on the swing, my head down dejectedly.
"Um… you're not that bad, are you?" Andrew tried tentatively. "I mean… if you were that bad, I wouldn't be friends with you."
"I'm that bad," I assured him. "If only there was some way for me to improve my disposition…"
"Like go on some self-improvement program?" he suggested, rolling his eyes. "God, you are fine!"
"That's it!" I cried, bolting up. "I'll go on a self-improvement program! Andrew, you're a genius!"
The disbelieving expression on Andrew's face was very funny. "Tell me you're not serious."
"I am! That's a great idea! I can't believe I didn't think of that myself!" I cried happily. "Oh my God! You can be my trainer!"
"What?" Andrew choked.
"Yes!" I said, invigorated by my new idea. "It'll be great! Since you're a good person, you could teach me all the secrets of being a great person! It's so perfect! Let's get started right now!"
"Um… Faye… I think you're going a just a tad bit insane," Andrew interrupted. "Hello? A self-improvement program? What the hell?"
"Don't forget that you're my coach!" I reminded him happily, refusing to be drawn in by his pessimistic attitude about this perfectly wondrous idea.
"Why do I even bother?" Andrew asked the sky.
"We have to write down a plan!" I exclaimed. "Come on! We have to get back to your house! Pencil, paper-"
"Faye, calm down," Andrew commanded. "You have a lot of time to do this. You're staying for a long time, right?"
"About three weeks," I replied hurriedly. "But that's not enough time! I need to get started right away if I want to have any progress!"
"Progress?" he echoed. "Please! I thought we were supposed to be having some fun! This is summer break, hello!"
"This will be fun!" I promised.
He rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure if our ideas of 'fun' match up."
"Stop whining!" I said, getting up and running across the sand to pick up my skateboard. "Let's go! We have a lot of things to do!"
"Right," he mumbled, following me. I flashed him a smile. Hopefully this self-improvement program would work. Then I could go back to school a changed person. A better person. And then Black would have no reason to make me feel like such a load of crap.
"So, uh, Faye," Andrew started.
"Yeah?" I chirped happily. Things—namely my personality—were going to improve, just as Tracy had wanted it to.
"Is your sudden urge to go on this self-improvement program strongly related to this Sirius Black character?"
"Well." I contemplated my answer. "I guess, sort of."
"But I thought he was a git that wasn't worth your time," Andrew said. "You know, according to your last letter."
"I thought he was," I answered truthfully. "And I think he still is, to some extent. But he is right about what he said about me."
"How'd you meet this guy anyway?" Andrew's voice had taken on an annoyed edge.
"Oh, well, we're in the same house, same year," I shrugged matter-of-factly. "I did tell you about his friends, didn't I?"
"I think so," he answered, still with that annoyed edge to his voice. "There was one like a pot and the other one was something like loopy."
"Yeah, James Potter and Remus Lupin," I corrected. "Oh, Peter Pettigrew, too."
"And what do you think of them?"
"Hm… James Potter is practically Black's twin. They're both disgustingly arrogant. But Remus… he's really nice. Yeah, I would almost call him my friend, but…well…he's friends with Black and Potter, so that raises a barrier," I said thoughtfully, realizing my words were true. "Anyways, why the sudden interest?"
"Uh… no reason. Come on, let's go!" Andrew said uncomfortably, jumping onto his skateboard rather hastily and skating off.
"Okay…" I said to myself, following suit. "Anyways, we'd better get started with that plan! I want to get a lot done today! I'm feeling productive."
"For once…" I heard Andrew muttered. I decided to ignore that comment in a dignified way.
We reached his house in very little time.
"Back so soon?" Anita asked in amusement as we clanked back inside the house with all our skateboards.
"Yeah," I replied breathlessly. "We have to start working on a project."
"Project?" she repeated, raising her eyebrows. "What sort of project?"
"Nothing much," Andrew said dismally.
"Come on!" I urged him, already half way up the stairs. "We have to start on the plan and stuff."
"Right," he said.
"And we have to make a list," I continued on, grabbing Andrew's arm and lugging him the rest of the way to his room.
As soon as I entered his room, though, my sudden enthusiasm dissipated. I stared around at the familiar room—the room that had been more of a home to my than my own—and I could almost hear our voices and laughter from years ago ringing within the room. I could practically see our younger selves playing around with the guitars that were at the moment lying still on their stands. The tantalizing whispers of memories filled the room, and I had to stop and blink back my tears.
"Faye?" Andrew's soft voice jerked me back into reality. "What's wrong?"
Turning around, I pasted a big, bright smile over my face. "Wrong? Nothing's wrong."
He sighed and smacked himself on the head. "Duh, I shouldn't have even asked. Memories?"
I nodded tightly before sighing and wrapping my arms around myself, trying to force myself to say the thing that had been bothering me ever since I moved away from here. "Do you ever feel angry that time always, always goes on?" I asked softly.
"Yes…" was his cautious answer.
"Don't you feel like we're… like we're drifting apart?" I said. The very thought of that scared me. "Do you ever feel like things won't ever be the same again?"
"Yeah."
"Do you ever just feel angry at the world because… because things aren't how you want them to be?" my voice was shaking now.
"Where is this heading?" Andrew questioned, his voice guarded. That made me pause. I didn't even know where this was heading…. Those questions had sprouted out of my mouth so randomly…. But I knew that there was one thing that I had to do.
"Andrew, I'm sorry," I whispered.
His whole countenance stiffened, and his face closed off angrily. Guilt twinged inside me, and I had to bite my cheek to refrain from spilling out sobs.
"Sorry for what?"
I sighed. "Stop playing dumb. You know for what."
"Stop it," Andrew said.
"Andrew…" I trailed off. "I'm so sorry. You know for what… please don't pretend you don't." Andrew just seemed to get angrier, and a muscle ticked in his jaw before his control finally—broke.
"I'm not pretending!" he exploded virulently. "You—you have so much to be sorry for, I don't even know where to begin! How could you do this to me? You lied to me for—for years! You don't know what it's been like! This whole year, I've been miserable because of you! Last year, just straight out of the blue, I found out that your dad has been abusing you for—for how long?—and you never—not once—came even close to telling me about it!"
I looked down at my feet, biting my bottom lip.
"How could you just take our friendship for something—something fake? How could you think that I wouldn't help you if you told me? Of course I'd help you! I'd do anything I could to help you! I'm your best friend, damn it! And you—I guess you were never mine!" Andrew shouted, frustrated, running a hand through his hair in his agitation before continuing on his rant.
"Do you know how many hours I spent trying to figure out what I did wrong, what I did that caused you to distrust me? Can you even imagine? I went from doing everything with you to finding out that you've never trusted me to exchanging letters with you every month or two! Never once did I ever see the phrase 'I miss you,' or 'I'm sorry!' Did you care about me enough to swallow your damned pride and admit that I was important to you? No!" Andrew said, now furiously pacing the room. With every word he spoke, I felt myself shrinking back. He was right—he was right about everything!
I couldn't stand being me. I was so unbelievably horrible. I didn't deserve Andrew or Grace… anything! My lips were trembling by now. My whole body was trembling.
"Look, I don't want to believe that all our years of friendship was a fake! I don't want to believe that you only hung out with me because you had no one else to hang out with! I know you had it hard, and your family was fuing horrible to you. I know all that, and I want to help you through it. I've always wanted to help you like you helped me. I've always trusted you unconditionally. But… even after all we've been through, you still can't trust me to help you?" he shook his head, stopping his pacing. He had his back towards me.
"You say you're sorry… but does that change anything? Does that mean that you'll trust me—all the way?" Andrew asked, anger and hurt and hope all painfully evident in his voice.
I couldn't take this anymore. I couldn't bear having Andrew angry at me. I took a few quick steps towards him—and wrapped my arms around his waist, hugging him hard. I leaned my forehead on his back, blinking back tears. I could feel his whole body tense at my closeness. But this just felt so… comforting. I hadn't felt this way in such a long time. The memories Andrew evoked were just too comfortable and many….
"I'm sorry, Andrew. I am so sorry!" I whispered, shaking my head. "I don't know why I never told you. Maybe because before I met you, I had no one to confide in, no one to teach me to trust other people. And you're right—my pride is just—so—damn—stupid! I didn't want to acknowledge that Henry and Diana affected me so much to the point that I needed help from other people. I'm sorry, Andrew. I'm sorry I ever hurt you."
Andrew didn't say anything, remaining stoically silent.
"Andrew," I said, closing my eyes. I needed to tell him the truth; I couldn't lie to him anymore. "Andrew, you're asking for my trust, and I want to give it you. But—but the truth is, I'm not ready for that. But please, please, please don't be angry with me. I don't know… after everything's that happened… I don't know how far I'm willing to go.
"You know, my family did more to hurt me than—than even I can ever imagine. No, this isn't some sort of pity thing that I want you to listen to…. It's just—I don't know if I can trust you all the way. All my life, I've believed that to trust someone completely is just inviting pain. Fiona used to try to make me like her, and then… and then she'd turn her back on me and just go running back to Diana. I don't know… it just hurt. It hurt to trust, so after a while, I just stopped.
"But I'll try… really, I will," I whispered earnestly. "I don't want to lose you, Andrew. You're my first and best friend… I can't throw it all away. Please."
Silence followed my outburst while I fought back my tears and hugged Andrew even more tightly. I buried my face in his back and tried to even out my breathing, hoping… hoping…. Finally, when the silence became too deafening and the painful hope in my chest was starting to flicker out, I loosened my arms to let go of Andrew. I shouldn't even be asking for a second chance, not after what I put him through….
Suddenly, Andrew moved. He turned around quickly, and I cringed, expecting a shove or a sharp word. Instead, two arms settled around my shoulders and tightened around me. I squeezed my eyes shut and let out the breath that I had been holding for so long. I raised my own arms to hug him back, reveling in the simple gesture that made it clear to me that Andrew was accepting me back, back into his life, back as his friend.
"Thank you," I croaked. "Thank you so much."
He looked away, a guilty expression on his face.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I've no right to yell at you. You've been through so much… and I should understand. I'm being so selfish… you've always been there for me and my stupid troubles… it was me. It was all my problems when you had to deal with t-that…. You shouldn't have to apologize to me…."
"But we're friends…" I whispered, feeling a sharp stab of pain in my heart. "We're best friends, and I trust you more than I trust anyone else. And I should have known that I could trust you with that. You would have helped me."
"We are friends," he said. Was it my imagination…? Did I hear a bitter edge in his voice? "I—I just c-can't tell you how much I care…"
"I'm sorry," I whispered again.
"I'm sorry, too."
He was everything I wasn't—kind, compassionate, understanding…. I couldn't begin to explain how thankful I was that I was his friend and he was mine. This really was going to be the perfect summer.
--
A/N: I'm sorry for the yet again long wait. \ I reall couldn't help it, since it's the end of the year and teachers are being extra vindictive as a goodbye present. I was also unsure of this chapter.
Like?
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Was Andrew disappointing?
Care to leave me an answer in a review?
Anyway, I'm so thankful to everybody who reviewed for the last chapter. I know it was kind of slow and boring, but as Saxifrage said, it was to highlight some important relationships. If you don't know what relationships I'm talking about... Hehe... I know who you are, secret! o.