Chapter 8

"Did Mom say white or wheat, Bran?"

He was met with silence. Not uncommon with Bran; the calmest teenager to ever walk the planet was often lost in his own thoughts, but on this occasion it wasn't inner musings that kept Jon from getting an answer. His brother simply wasn't there.

Jon turned around, frowning to himself. He had definitely arrived at the grocery store with the thirteen-year-old. He sighed, as contemplative and mysterious as his little brother liked to appear sometimes, Jon knew there were only so many places Bran would disappear to.

He grabbed the first loaf of bread his hand fell on, and turned the trolley to the tech aisles. Bran was mad about technology. His computer had cost more than the TV in the family room. He had paid for it himself too, saving up allowances and odd change to buy it. He had left the house with a massive jar of change and had come home with the best model on the market. Mom had been a little taken aback, but Dad had just smiled proudly.

The TVs were all playing the same hypnotising video of a turtle swimming through a perfect blue ocean and Jon was tempted to just lay down in front of them and watch. It had been a long week. Robb had been stupidly obvious at dinner, Sansa had been colder than usual, and Uncle Robert had roped Dad into his divorce case, and stolen him away every evening since. Arya had been quiet though, which was a blessing. Or was it? Jon paused, trying to remember a time when a quiet Arya had been a good thing. He frowned. He should look into that.

His inner musings were interrupted by giggling and teenage peacocking. At first he thought it was just two youths messing about with the test consoles.

"No, stop! That's expensive!" a hair flick, a faux-panic, an excuse to touch the boy's arm.

"No it's not, my dad has, like, three of these," a scoff, a smirk, a brag that impresses no-one.

Ah, young love.

Jon rolled his eyes, and rolled his cart forwards. He had no interest in listening to any more. He'd experienced enough tween flirting for a lifetime with Sansa and –

"Joffrey!"

Jon stopped. Through a rack of DVDs he could just make out the little blonde head. The girl was familiar, one of the cheerleader-social-butterfly types Sansa hung out with, but Jon did not care enough to put a name to her. All he knew for certain is that the girl fawning over Joffrey, the one who was giggling and leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, was not his sister.

Well, fuck.

Joffrey turned and Jon watched as the lines of his face twisted into a smug smile.

That prick.

All thoughts of plans and patiently waiting for Sansa to see the light flew from his head. All he saw was his fist in the boy's face. Jon tightened his grip on the cart and pushed it forwards. He was just about to swing it into their aisle when he heard his name.

"Jon! There you are. Look who I found."

Bran was smiling and oblivious. Jon was almost jealous. He scowled and swung to face his brother fully.

Behind him stood two people who looked nothing alike. Gendry and a short blonde woman with warm eyes. His mom, most likely.

Jon blinked. He was angry. He took a breath. He wasn't angry with Gendry, and he definitely wasn't angry with Gendry's mom.

"Hi,"

He tugged a hand off the cart and gave a limp wave.

Gendry nodded, and Bran kept on smiling.

"This is Gendry's mum, Wendy." Bran grinned.

"It's um- it's nice to meet you," Jon nodded at Wendy.

She beamed, "You too darling, Gendry's told me so much about you. You boys, and your - sister is it?" she turned to Gendry for confirmation, who just blushed and looked down at his shoes.

"Sansa? Or Arya?" Bran asked innocently.

"Yes, that's the one," She smiled, looking at her red-faced son who was pointedly not looking at anyone, "It's so nice to put a face to name. And to actually meet some of Gendry's friends, he's never really mentioned anyone before,"

Gendry was looking anywhere but Jon, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for him. But his mum was so happy for her son that Jon couldn't help but warm to her.

"Yeah, but that's Gendry, right? He doesn't spill his secrets easily," Jon smiled, hoping his new friend would tell he was joking. Gendry looked at him, and there was fear there for a split-second before gratitude spilled into his eyes.

"Well exactly. Like a spy. I had to get my lie-detector out just to work out whose house he was having dinner at this week," she laughed, and it was a delicate flutter. A world away from the cheerleader screwing with his sister's boyfriend.

"Mom's like that," Bran gave a little smile, "I think she was happy to have someone other than Theon round. She worries that we'll all turn out like loner weirdos with no friends,"

"But there's loads of you," Gendry snorted in disbelief, "how could you ever be lonely?"

"Yeah, but that's the problem with so many of us, you have ready-made friends and no need to integrate," Jon laughed, remembering the fear of not being in the same class as Robb for the first time. He had actually had to talk to people. The horror.

Bran nodded sagely, as if he wasn't off at a different friend's house every weekend.

"So long as nobody eats all the funyons, it's peace and harmony."

Gendry snorted again, glancing from Bran to Jon in open disbelief. The red in his cheeks was calming now.

Jon couldn't help smiling "You've seen it. It's blissful."

Gendry openly laughed this time, "Yeah, until Arya threatens to stab you with her dessert spoon."

Bran winced, "She does get possessive over profiteroles."

"I nearly lost an eye once." Jon winked at Wendy who was chuckling along to their conversation.

"Totally normal sibling behaviour." Bran smiled up at Jon who reached out to ruffle his hair. It was such a Dad thing to do, but it felt appropriate.

"Sure, sure." Gendry laughed, and his mom echoed him.

Jon could see it now, the resemblance. They had the same blue eyes and their laughs were in harmony with each other. Light and hard-earned. In the moment of silence that followed, Jon watched as Wendy wrapped an arm around her son's back, pulling him closer.
Gendry smiled at the brothers more confidently now, calmed by the Stark sibling nonsense, but his mom looked wistful. There was a glimmer of some sad longing caught in the corners of her eyes. With a jolt Jon recognised it.
He glanced down at Gendry's mom's left hand and saw no wedding ring. Gendry never mentioned his dad. Two people was still a family, but it would never be the loud mess of constant availability and easy belonging that made up an eight-person-and-three-dogs family.

"Hey, are you coming to the game next week?" the question was out of Jon's mouth before he had finished forming the thought.

Gendry's mom looked a little surprised, but the look she gave her son was nothing but pride,

"Of course, I never miss one."

"You should come over ours before. Mom does a barbeque for the first game of the season, it's normally warm enough by then."

"Oh that sounds lovely, but I'm working till three. You should go though, love."

Gendry looked between Jon and his mom, a little unsure. This wasn't plan related. This was actual friendship.

"Yeah, you should," Bran piped up, smiling and completely unaware, "Dad makes these pulled pork burgers that always go wrong but still end up tasting good. It's hilarious."

"That's so kind of you," Wendy beamed, "We'll have to return the favour at some point, have some of you boys over when we can,"

"Yeah, that'd be cool," Jon shuffled his feet, and nodded at Gendry who was still looking a little uncertain.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, I'll be cheering for you next Saturday," she winked and Jon grinned, full and happy and genuine.

"Thanks, that means a lot," he nodded at her, "See you later, Gendry."

Gendry nodded to the two boys, "See you,"

-*.*-*.*-

Sansa's fingers tapped against the steering wheel, perfectly shaped fingernails shining in the afternoon sun.

She had a plan. Or rather, she was forming a plan. She had an idea anyway.

There were possibilities swimming beneath her nose, things she wanted, things within reach. Milkshakes and kind blue eyes. Weekends at the mall. Prom.

She sighed as she thought of the last one. She had put off thinking about it so far, but it was there waiting to be thought about. She was only a Junior but all of her friends would be there, and if she wasn't it would be weird, right? Or if she was there but Joffrey wasn't. Or if Joffrey never even asked her. She had a vision of Prom night without him, of dancing with her friends, not caring if he had called her back yet or if his tie was matching her dress.

She shook her head, blinking the image away. Prom was ages away. No point getting ahead of herself.

Where was Arya? All of the rest of the fencing club had left nearly ten minutes ago, what was she doing?

She should have let Mom pick her up. Or Jon. Or Robb. Or literally anyone other than Sansa. But no. She needed to see Arya. There was too much to talk about and there wasn't enough privacy at home. Being in a moving vehicle with no obvious escape routes was an obvious benefit.

It was time to talk boys.

Sansa couldn't remember the last time they had talked about something as normal or as girly as who they had a crush on. Maybe never. There had been one final tumultuous conversation when she had started dating Joffrey, and then – nothing. Something like regret sat at the edges of Sansa's stomach. Twirling skirts and regret. A nice combination.

But here was Arya with a scowl and a heavy bag, so there was no time to think about that anymore. Sansa had a plan.

"Hey, I thought you said four!"

Probably not the best start. Sansa winced as Arya slammed the car door shut.

"I got held up," She mumbled, jabbing her seat belt into its socket.

"That's okay, I was just worried," Sansa replied, fingers tapping against the steering wheel.

Arya didn't say anything, but the way she kicked her bag and curled her foot up under her made it clear she was not in a good mood.

"Did something happen at fencing?"

Arya sighed, but shook her head.

Sansa looked at the road. That wasn't nearly enough information but she didn't dare ask for more. Don't poke the bear, let it get up on its own.

The silence continued until they were only a few blocks from home.

"I ran into Ned Dayne on the way out," Arya said.

She was looking out the window, so Sansa couldn't see if that was a good thing or not. Didn't they used to be friends?

"How is he?"

"A dick."

So not friends anymore.

"That's a shame, he used to be decent,"

"Yeah, and then his balls dropped,"

Sansa opened her mouth to reprimand her sister, but she wasn't exactly wrong.

"Some guys are like that,"

There were more than a few Neanderthals in their school. They might have been third in the region for sports, but they took first place for fights in the cafeteria.

"Yeah, and some guys never get better," The bitterness in her voice was tinged with something that Sansa might have called regret if she was feeling generous. She did her best not to frown. Who did Arya have to regret? Or did she mean Joffrey? She usually did, when she sounded like that. But this wasn't supposed to be about Joffrey. Sansa thought about blue eyes and warm hands for a split second and sighed. Definitely not Joffrey.

Sansa shook herself, "That's true, but it's not all hopeless,"

Arya finally turned away from the window and Sansa suppressed a smile. Progress, excellent.

"No?"

"No, what about-" she paused and pretended to think, as though she hadn't practiced this in her head five times already, "What about Hot Pie?"

Arya laughed, actually laughed! Excellent. Defences lowering. Keep the course, Captain.

"Sure, he's a good buddy,"

"Right? And Theon's decent-"

"-only on a good day though," Arya's sharp eyebrow made Sansa laugh. Theon was basically a fifth brother at this point, and definitely as annoying as one.

"True. Okay, what about Jon's friend?" Smooth flying there, girl, keep on.

"Who? Pip?" Arya wrinkled her nose and shuddered. Sansa couldn't blame her – she had seen him on more than one occasion picking his nose and flicking it maybe-not-by-accident into his soda.

"No, that new one who was at dinner," she said as casually as she could. This was a key part about the plan. Get her to think about the boy. The one with nice arms who made hot chocolate exactly like her sister wanted.

"Gendry?" her voice rose slightly and Sansa bit her lip. And there it was.

"Yeah, he's a good guy, right?"

Arya considered the question for a minute. Not for the first time Sansa wondered when her sister had gotten so good at hiding her thoughts. She used to be a Dr. Seuss book, but now there was a world spinning behind those eyebrows.

"I guess, I mean, we haven't talked that much," she said quickly, and Sansa was sure she could see a hint of a blush on her cheeks.

"But when you have talked?" She focused on driving, doing everything she could to play it cool. Eyes front, Stark, let her talk.

"He seems like a good guy. He's funny, and definitely one of Jon's better friends." Arya turned back to her window, but not before Sansa saw her smile.

"Do you think there's potential there?"

Silence.

Sansa heard the screech of brakes as a car pulled up behind them, thumping music coming from its speakers. She heard kids playing on their bikes, laughing as the wind blew in their faces. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears.
She didn't hear a sound from her sister.

"For what?"

Arya's quiet question broke the tension and Sansa did her best not to sigh in relief.

"You know, for – something," her voice didn't shake, thankfully. It didn't sound wholly natural and confident, but that was the best she could do.

When Arya finally spoke it was careful and measured. She looked straight ahead at the road but her hands twisted around themselves in her lap, "I think it depends what that something is. And who it's with."

Sansa tried to ignore the flutterings in her stomach, the tickling of hope.

"Well, it would be with whomever he would be interested in."

"Sure. And the something?"

"I don't know. Milkshakes?"

Arya was definitely blushing now. She was biting her lip and trying not to smile and blushing like a pre-schooler.

"He does love milkshakes." She seemed to think about it for a second before laughing, "Of course he does, who doesn't like milkshakes?" She shook her head.

"Joffrey doesn't. He always gets a slushy instead."

"Yeah, but the differences between Joffrey and Gendry are bigger than just slushie versus milkshake."

"You're right. They're totally different." Sansa said calmly, pulling into the driveway.

"Is that a good thing?"

"I don't think it's good or bad, it just is. He's a really decent guy and whoever- whoever he wants to be with would be lucky to be with him." Arya nodded slowly, taking in Sansa's words. "but then," Sansa continued, "let's not forget that we're not exactly anything to be snubbed. We're awesome."

Arya laughed at that, and for a second they were just hanging out chatting about boys and it was normal. Sansa felt that pang in her stomach again. She missed her sister.

"Well at risk of sounding too soppy, I kinda have to agree. Anyone would be lucky to have you, sis."

"Thanks, sis," Sana nudged her elbow.

Sansa took a moment before she clambered out of the car. That pang in her stomach hit again. It made her stop and watch her sister walk up the path, heavy bag in hand. Why were these sorts of conversations so few and far between? They used to spend so much time together, and now – Well. When was the last time they spoke like that? Her birthday maybe? Her birthday.

Of course.

Sansa scoffed, and shook her head. Yeah, that was why they didn't talk much anymore.

She slammed the car door behind her and followed her sister into the house.