Hey folks! Happy (late) Valentine's Day to you all!
As a gift, i brought another chapter of this fic. I.. dont really know if anybody is reading it, but i'll keep posting anyway.
As promised, this chapter is twice as long as the others; lots of info, plot, drama, bombs, and stuff happens.
I hope you guys like it.
"Qué opinas de Steven?"
Rain smashed the buttons, making the pinball flippers waggle erratically. But despite her efforts, the ball felt into the drain. The Pinball machine played the depressive LOSER tune. Rain smacked the machine, which went dark and quiet. One day, she'll hear the WINNER music.
"See? That's what happens when you talk to me," she said to the man at her right.
Peeps looked up from his sketchbook and stuck out his tongue. Then he went back to slashing the paper with his pencil.
"What was that you asked before?"
"Pregunte qué opinas de Steven?" said Peeps, in fluent Spanish.
It took Rain a moment to put the words into their assigned mental slots. 'What do you think of Steven?' he'd asked.
"Why are you speaking in Spanish? These lovebirds can't hear a thing from there," Rain pointed at the mentioned teens near the pool table, chatting and laughing —and, in Steven's case, pretending to know how to play pool.
Peeps said nothing. He was fluent in 5 languages, but Rain only spoke two; English, and what little Spanish her mom taught her. Ever since Peeps moved into the hostel, they'd felt into speaking it whenever they wanted to speak something private. And modesty aside, Rain had gotten great at it since then.
"Me cae bien, pero tengo que conocer-lo más," she said. 'I like him, but I need to know him better'.
Peeps snickered. "You mean 'conocerlo mejor'".
"Right," Rain said, with the faintest red on her face. An idea occurred to her. "Why do you ask? Do you feel something odd about him?" she whispered.
Peeps lifted his gaze to stare at Steven. Rain, meanwhile, stared at Peeps. Finally, the man shrugged.
"Nah, I must be paranoid. He seems harmless enough."
Rain made a sound like a deflating balloon. This one was on her; hoping for Peep's Extrasensorial Perception to open up in one night has been too far-fetched.
"New topic. When are you gonna teach me some magic, Aylin?" said Peeps.
Rain frowned. Peeps knew better than to drop the birth names. "When you are ready, Davi," she said.
"But when will that be? It's been months, and all you had me do is made sandwiches and cook fries."
"And you still burn them up. You can't make a good tray of fries and you want me to teach you to throw lightning bolts from your hands? I don't think so."
Peeps groaned and hid his face in his sketchbook. He was striking furiously now.
"Think of it this way," said Rain in an appeasing tone. "Magic is like cooking. Or like art." Peeps lifted his gaze from the book. "How you feel about it is as important as how much you know about it —damn, maybe more important. I know you put your heart in your art but not into your cooking, that's why you suck."
"But magic is not cooking," she added. "You know what happens when you half-arse the Craft?"
Rain rubbed her right hand, from the wrist to the elbow, feeling the scarred tissue over the skin. Time had done wonders healing the burnt scars, and what haven't healed, Rain had hid under the tattoos. But the scars were still there; and they'll probably always be.
"Look, bad shit happens, OK? Just forget about the whole thing," said Rain hid her arms behind her back.
Peeps huffed and went back to his drawing, now with soft, sad strokes of his pencil.
Poor guy. Ever since he'd caught Rain doing magic, he'd wanted nothing more than to learn.
That was Rain's fault. Mostly. Peeps was on his first month at the hostel when a big thunderstorm hit the town, shutting all lights out. Rain was in her room alone so she used magic to light the place up and search for some candles. She trusted everyone was sleep, so she didn't hear Peeps going up the stairs to her room until it was too late.
It'd been too much for the poor guy, and not just because Rain hit him with the sphere of light —I mean, who barge in into a lady's room without knocking? Ever since then, Peeps had set his mind into doing magic.
Of course, the inherent dangers of magic was just half of the reason why Rain haven't taught Peeps an inch of the Craft. The other half —and the most important half— was because he would suck at it. Surely he would be an avid student, Rain was sure of that at least. You don't learn 5 languages and teach yourself how to draw by being lazy.
The problem wasn't mental, it was metaphysical. Peeps had the Extrasensorial Perception of a carrot. He couldn't see auras nor detect the Subtle Magic. Perhaps he could study the Craft and become a scholar overnight, but it would take years for him to do any actual magic —if he ever manages to do so.
Why does he want to learn so badly? Rain thought. What would he even do with the Craft? Making his pens move by themselves? Throw fireballs at people? He'll quickly bore himself with it when he had it. Or… or maybe he'll decide this town's too boring and he would move out of the hostel.
And it would be a shame... with he around to help, the place was finally starting to look decent.
Rain reached for her beer and finish it off in one drink. She was worrying too much; a signal she was getting old.
She distracted herself by looking at the teens. Soledad was saying something that made Steven laugh his socks off.
Now, that girl was a whole other can of worms; one Rain didn't even dare to look at. She had it. IT being the thing you need to be good at the Craft. It was good Sol didn't know anything about magic, lest she asked Rain to teach her. She might be forced to accept, only on the foundation of not wanting Sol doing unsupervised magic.
The thought alone made her shiver. Rain had an unfortunate story of messing things up when she gets too involved. Again, the scars came to her mind.
"Man, these two are wasted," said Peeps, in a somewhat perkier mood, as he looked attentively at the teens.
Rain felt her worries going away. If looking at Steven directly didn't awakened Peeps' ESP, nothing will. He'll never do magic. Soledad will leave soon too. And Rain wouldn't have to find out if she could actually was better this way.
Soledad got close to Steven and said something in his ear. They were so close you would've to use a crowbar to separate them.
That girl just doesn't give up, Rain thought amusingly. She probably ought to apology to Steven for the cold shoulder she gave him earlier. But again, she probably oughtn't, not with the scare Steven gave her. You don't see something… someone like him often.
She gave her back to the teens; more time looking at Steven's aura and her eyes might carbonize faster than Peeps' fries. She put both hands on the pinball machine, and breathed. The machine came back to life, with its symphony of sounds designed to trap you into its flipper claws.
"They are fine," said Rain as she pushed a new ball into the game. "They're not that wasted."
They were absolutely wasted, and Steven couldn't be happier about it. After all, before tonight he was afraid he couldn't get drunk.
His first time drinking was a complete disappointment. He was hanging out with Peedee, Connie, and some of Connie's friends from school. Lars —who was visiting Earth at the moment— bought the beers for them. 'You can't go into the road without having your first one' he'd said.
After two beers, the group was starting to be a bit more loose-tongued and to move a bit slower. Steven, however, was four beers in and was stone-cold sober. Lars stopped him before he could drink a fifth one —his aura was a blob of envy.
Steven figured out what has happened a few days later. It was his gem; the Diamond in his belly could heal Steven of any damage he received, not matter how big. Even having his skull broken has barely sent him into a momentary coma. So when Steven drank that beer, his gem thought he was ingesting poison willingly and in great quantities, and it worked overtime to heal him. Conclusion: he couldn't get drunk.
Other folks would've seen it as an advantage. Steven panicked. Not being able to do something everyone else could felt like being robbed of something. He started doing an exercise: every time he drank something, he would visualize it as beer. Water; beer. Orange juice; beer. The idea was to trick his brain into thinking beer was as innocuous as anything else. He did this for days. Until today, he hasn't had the opportunity to test if it had worked.
If the empty space inside his head and the general un-stillness of the world around him were of any indication, it had worked. Maybe too well… but whatever! There had to be worst people to be drunk with than Soledad.
Take now for example, she was telling Steven a story about her schooldays that was getting him close to wetting his jeans.
"That cannot be true!" wheezed Steven, although his conscious mind had a mild grasp on what Soledad actually said.
"It sure is! Idontgetwhatssoweird. I just wanted to build a robot!" said Soledad, her arms reaching for the sky to give an idea of the immensity of the thing in her head. "But my mom, she, my moms' the worzt. 'Do something more, 'traditional' for the szciense fair' she said. So I thought —very smartly— that I could hack my phone into an au-to-dia-ler, so it would call random folks and play a pre-re-re-recorded message."
Soledad swung her cue stick in a striking motion. "Andicanttellyou how much time I spent on that thing. AND IT WORKED!" She put two fingers of her right on the side of her head. "Five minutes after I plugged it in, I had a Secret Service's John Smith holding a gun against my head."
Steven's mouth turned into a straight line. "What?"
"Yeaaah… turns out the first number I auto-called was the Head of the FBI's Office in Washington."
"Oh my Stars," Steven covered his mouth. This was no laughing matter —or was it? It was hard to guess. "That's s-serious."
"Iknowright? They were soo upset. They didn't even let me keep my phone."
"That's so sad. And w-what did you do with the —what was it name?— the science fair?"
"Oh, I built a homemade taser gun."
A long drop of sweat felt down Steven's cheek. "Oh…"
"And it worked. But it backfired."
"Why?"
Soledad looked at both sides and whispered: "Itesteditonmyscienceteacher."
That was the dam that broke the drop… no, the drop that broke the dam. Steven was possessed by a fit of laughter that seemed to have a life of its own.
"OK, now you are just being mean," grumbled Soledad.
"Ah-I'm sorry," gasped Steven. "I just... oh man, are you a super villain?"
"I'm… what?"
"No, no. I-its cool! I'm not judging. Damn, one of my friends tried to kill me. I mean, most of my friends have tried to kill me. One of them tried to steal the ocean, too. And my family," Steven chuckled dryly. "Oh Stars, I can't even tell you how messed up my family is. So, like, it's totally OK if you are a super villain."
Soledad shook her head, as if not deciding if being upset or amused.
"If I were, I would live in a super-cool-ultra-secret-base in a mountain in Swis…Switz… Europe," she said. "Not in a hostel that smells like cat pee."
With the conversation reaching a wall, Steven remembered they were playing 8-ball. He also remembered it was his turn —and has been for the last ten minutes. Soledad was the stripped balls and Steven the solids. There were many more solid balls than stripped ones.
Steven walked towards the table, careful not to trip with his own feet. The solid balls were scattered across the table; but a shiny red one was one breeze away from falling into the far left pocket. That's the good one, thought Steven.
He laid over the table with the cub in hand and made a line in his head. But in his current state, said line resembled the map of the New York City Metro. He positioned the cub right behind the white ball. Just one little push.
TOC. The white ball made like a rocket, hit the farthest rail and then ricocheted through the entire table, hitting every single ball, except its intended objective. It finally stopped one inch away from busting Steven's face.
The boy forehead touched the table. Soledad roared with laughter.
"I suck at everything I do," Steven groaned, miserably.
"Y-yes you do!"
Steven stood up and extended the cub at her. "Here, you play."
"What? All alone?"
"Yeah, its fun to watch you play."
A flash of red lived and died quickly on Soledad's face. She grabbed the cub and assumed the same position Steven had taken. Except when she hit the white ball, it made a straight line and pushed a stripped ball into the pocket.
"So going back to this… 'science fair'," said Steven, still struggling with the whole concept. "I guess your mom was not happy."
"Oh, you have NO idea. She was like a BULL! I thought she was gonna ground me forever."
Soledad continued to play by herself, moving around the table, looking for the best position to hit the ball. Each new hit was a ball that banished inside a hole.
"Well, I think that's dumb!" said Steven. "I mean, ob-viously I wouldn't want to be electr… ele… shocked. But its soo cool you made that by yourself. And the phone thing too. You're like a… computer genius."
"I know right! I've always had a thing for gadgets," Soledad put a hand on her chest. "If you need a gizmo, a device or a gimmick, I'm your girl."
Steven tapped his chin in reflection. "Re-eally? What if I need a doodad?"
"I do those!"
"Oh, that's amazing," he cheered.
"Yeah, my science teacher —the one I elec… shocked— thought so too. He always supported my projects. He told me I could go to any technology institute if I ever tried."
Steven nodded. "Sounds like a wise man. I'm sure you'll do great."
There was an instant of silent, broken by the TOC of the cub hitting the white ball.
"That'll never happen."
This crashed Steven's mental hard drive hard enough to sober him up a little. He had a specific —some people would say narrow— vision of the World, in which people that were smart went to college, and people that weren't… well, being smart wasn't everything in life. But he'd taken for certain that college was a necessary milestone to anyone with actual brain over their shoulders.
"Sorry but I-I don't get it. It sounds just like the thing for you."
Soledad's mouth smiled at Steven, but her brows furrowed.
"Well, I don't know if you noticed it, but I'm not exactly liquid right now."
Steven pressed his lips tight shut. Right, other people didn't had a formerly rockstar dad who was a millionaire.
"Well," he started, glancing away, "there are scholarships and-"
"Yes, Steven, I know there are scholarships, and grants, and loans and whatever. Ialreadyhadthistalkwithmyself. But even with all of that, living is expensive and…"
She stopped. Her aura was shrinking in shame, as did her body. Steven sat on the table next to her and put a soothing hand in her back.
"I'm broken," she muttered. Steven had to get closer to hear her. "I'm broken. My mom is the one who is rich, not me. And before you ask, I can't ask her for some. She always went on how I should study Economics and be more like her and… AGH!"
The sudden spike of anger from Soledad's aura almost made Steven felt to the ground. At this distance, he could share her feelings. Quite literally; there was a boiling rage in his stomach that has come out of nowhere. Steven took the hand of her back. The anger banished immediately.
Well, this can't be good, Steven thought, but he couldn't ponder about this new manifestation of his powers because Soledad kept talking.
"It's just… she is so difficult, you know? You have no idea how controlling she can be, Steven. She questioned everything I did, every choice I made. If I wanted to do ballet, BOOM, she would put me on football. If I wanted to keep my hair long, surprise! She brings home a hairdresser."
She took a deep breath. "And if I said… I said I'm actually a woman, well, she says 'I won't allow it'"
Steven opened his mouth to ask what she… wait. Oh. Never mind.
"Oh man," he said.
"Oh woman, you mean," said Soledad.
"Oh shit! I didn't mean-"
"I'm just messing with you," she said with a weak smile. "So yeah, I escaped home, left California, and didn't look back. Turned out alright for me, eh?"
There was a small laughing, a tiny spark of joy in the otherwise somber air. The music from Peeps' phone —a sad jazzy song— mixed with the rumble of the pinball machines in a dream-like symphony.
"Well, if it makes you feel better, my dad went through the same thing," said Steven.
Soledad gasped. "No way! Your dad's trans?"
"What? No! No, not at all. Although I do have a friend whose partner is trans. I mean I think Shep is actually NB," Steven stopped himself. "My point is, he also have trouble with his parents, so he ran away from home to wander the world. Heh, he even changed his last name. Universe is not my real name."
Steven's comments made little to cheer Soledad up. Her aura was making maelstroms, as if deep in thought.
"Actually, wandering was not in my mind when I escaped," said Soledad after a moment of hesitation. "I was heading for Massa… Masse… Fucking BOSTON, alright?" she shouted, exasperated. "I have family there. My mom's family. An uncle, auntie, two cousins and a dog. The whole American Dream."
Steven could picture them as if he knew them.
"And you thought they would house you?" he asked.
"That was the plan," said Soledad.
A picture was starting to form in Steven's head. "Well, you are very close now. You could probably be there in…" he raised his fingers and tried —and failed— to count them. "Two days top! It's a shame we're not going the same way, or I could drive you off."
Words kept pouring out of him like boiling water out of a teapot, leaking over his hands and burning him. Yea, it was a shame they were going to different places, otherwise he would have made a drunken offer he wouldn't be able to vouch off when sober. Soledad was nice but Steven had a schedule to follow.
"You're super nice, Steven but I-I don't even know if I'll go," Soledad said. "I don't know my uncle and he doesn't know me. I figured… if I dropped at his doorstep. I could guilt trip him into taking me in."
She stretched the skin of her face, and when she looked at Steven, she blushed. Her aura shrunk with guilt. It must be the first she confess this, Steven realized.
"Give it a try," said Steven. "You'll never know, maybe it'll all turn alright."
"And if it doesn't?" said Soledad sharply. "I'd to left my home once; I'm not in the mood for having my family shut the door in my face."
Steven mulled about it for a second. "You can always stay with Rain," he said helpfully.
As if she'd hear it, Rain let out a groan and said something along the lines of 'cursed machine, I'll show you who is the loser'. She proceeded to tilt the pinball machine left and right.
"Rain's nice," said Soledad flatly, "but she only have me around because I'm a Ms. Fixit. Besides, I don't want to live in Death River forever. Look around you. It'sfuckingSilentHillinhere! I need to think about my future!"
There it was again, the picture in Steven's head. It should be clear by this point; it certainly felt like all the pieces matched. Yet, there was something he couldn't put his finger over…
"So no. Its either Boston, or…"
Soledad fished inside her pockets. She pulled out an odd-colored plastic card with imaginary money attached to it. Steven had one of those.
"A debit card?" he said.
"It's my mom. Noactuallyismine," Soledad corrected herself. "She opened me an account not long before I escaped. When I left, I thought she'd cancelled it."
She bit her lip and whispered. "But she didn't; in fact, she keeps putting money on it. Every month. It's not a gold mine or anything, just enough for hotels, and moving around and my meds."
Steven hummed a long while. The plot thickens. "What do you think that means?"
"I think she thinks I'm playing around. I think she thinks I need to have a loose leash for a while, get it out of my system. Then i'll come back home and be a good girl," she spat the last word, as if it was not the one she actually meant to say.
"Come on now. How do you know she thinks all that?" asked Steven.
"She told me," said Soledad dryly. "She called me one time I was in an hotel in Texas." Soledad hugged herself as a fit of desperate laughter possessed. "It's so funny! I spent days jury-rigging my phone to make it untraceable before I left, and then I go and use a debit card. What a genius, amiright?"
Steven hummed. The picture was right in front of his eyes, mocking him for his short-sightedness. In the fog of his mind, Steven could see it in colors he knew about but couldn't describe. A familiar picture.
After a short silence, in which Soledad played with the debit card as if she was gonna split it in two, she said:
"Maybe I should go back."
It felt like being gut-punched with a metal fist. "Are you sure it's a good idea?" said Steven, with the bitterness of alcohol rising up his throat.
"Abso-lutely not. But it's been a while since we talked, face to face I mean…" Soledad shrugged. "I don't know, maybe things changed."
"But she kicked you out. A-and you said she didn't sound too happy when you guys talked-"
"I know, I know," Soledad hissed and hid the card in her pocket. "But I need to think about what's best for me, you know, fi-nan-cially. And I changed, you know? I'm not the pushover I once was! I'm gonna sit her down and tell her how I wanna do things, andsheisgonnaacceptit!"
Soledad grabbed the cub and raised it in the air, heroically. It conjured an image of Connie, sword in hand, ready to their next training session. This didn't eased Steven's stomach, which have been stinging for a while.
"Well, if you are sure about it…" said Steven, tiptoeing each word.
"Imneversureaboutanything," she quipped and hugged the cub tight to her chest. Her aura was fragile as a snowflake. "I think if we really put our heart to it, if we sit down and we can stop yellingateachotherforfiveminutes, then we can reach an arrangement." She stopped as she looked for the right words. "Maybe I could, you know, change her mind."
The pink diamond in Steven's belly released such a burst of energy it almost broke him apart. Ah, there it was. That was the picture; the remembrance he'd been ignoring. Now as he looked at Soledad, it was like looking at his mom. At Pink Diamond.
A feral rage chest grew in his chest. His teeth clashed, his claws itched to come out. His heart pumped blood quickly to give him a boost to chase an inexistent enemy. An inner, primal part of himself was like a feral animal, and somehow it connected to his gem. It became a constant struggle to keep the pink from taking over; like pushing a boulder uphill, barefoot, over a field of nails, with a bird perched over your head telling you 'hey, wouldn't it be great to let it go?'.
"Uh, Stevie… You OK there pardner? You look a little-"
Steven opened his mouth to excuse himself and go somewhere else. Instead, he heard himself saying: "Soledad, I don't think you should go see your mom."
Soledad chuckled. "Forget about her now. Let's go back to the game."
She walked around the table. Steven dashed towards her.
"I mean it!" he said. "I-I think it's a bad idea."
"Uh, are you the same person? Because five minutes ago you were telling me to test my luck in Boston."
"I know, I know, but it's not the same," he said, and he tried to think why it wasn't. "I mean, I know you think you can change her mind, but what if you are wrong? Or, or if she asks something from you that you don't want do to in exchange? Even if you success, It won't be worth it-"
"Woahholditrightthere!" said Soledad. Her aura glowing with impatience. "Even if all that's true, I still have to try. She is my mom. I'll have to make amends with her someday."
A freezing cold took over Steven's chest. Instantly, an bomb blew up in his chest and melted it.
"But... WHY?" he shouted. "Why would you want to forgive her, after everything she did to you?"
"Well, maybe she feel bad about it."
"She doesn't."
Soledad huffed. "How do you know?"
"Because I DO alright?" Steven spat, full of venom. In his anger, he had grabbed the other end of the cub.
Right, the game. He ought to go back to that. He took the cub out of Soledad's hand and positioned himself to play.
"Look, think of it like… like carrying a big boulder."
Soledad looked around, like she was trying to see the figurative boulder Steven was summoning.
"You lost me," she said finally.
Steven groaned and scratched his head, scratching the base of his horns in the process. "Just imagine that the relation with your mom is a boulder right? A really, really big rock. A-and to fix that relation, you have to carry that boulder. And it will be good at first!"
Steven swung the cub around. Soledad stepped back a few steps.
"You are gonna feel much better, and you are gonna look at yourself in the mirror and think you have some, some sort of, like, moral high ground for carrying that boulder," he said. "B-but then one day you'll find that it doesn't change anything. You are just doing another person's job for nothing."
Steven laid over the table, cub in hand, in front of the white ball. His brain was full of static. Soledad was frowning; her aura was glowing redder by the minute.
"And don't get me started on the other people," he lowly grumbled, more to himself than to his audience of one. "They love to be bitter and resentful, until they are talking about you, then everyone is sooo Zen. 'Carry that boulder! You are so mature. It's not even that heavy'. How the Hell do they know. You are the one that is carrying it! And it's not just one. You are carrying two, and four, and a hundred boulders for people that can't carry them themselves."
Steven held the cub behind the white ball and made a line with his mind. "So you know what? I think you are better this way. You should stay here, a-and forget all about your family."
Soledad crossed her arms. She looked very small. "Youdontmeanthat."
Steven tilted the cub backwards and screamed: "I do! Fuck your mom!"
"HEY!"
"And fuck everyone else!
TOCK! The white ball dashed too fast for the eyes to follow. It escaped the table and flew unrestrained, reaching the woods. The teens only really see it when it hit a tree. BAM! It went, and felt to the ground. All around them there was the rumble of hundreds of birds, disturbed from their pleasant dream, flying away from their nest. The sky turned feather black for a second, before the flock reached enough altitude and disappeared into the black night.
Time stopped. In the silence, Steven could hear his own ragged, volcanic breath. And he could see Soledad's aura.
Peaks of anger, twists of confusion. And… fear. Her gaze was broken and confused, like she was seeing him for the first time.
Steven felt the same thing. He was wrong. It wasn't his mom he'd seen in Soledad —it was himself.
"HEY!" came a shout so loud yet so controlled it could have made a Diamond cower —and it did.
Rain and Peeps had approached them, although keeping a respectable distance. They had the same distrust in their auras as Soledad; the air around Rain was specially electrified.
"OK, what happened now?" said Rain. Her gaze jumped from one teen to the other, but it lingered more in Steven.
"I…" Steven started. Nothing came to him.
He gently left the cub on the table. "I'm sorry," he said to Soledad as he dashed past her.
The trip to the car could have been a thousand miles long for all he knew. Steven ran as fast as he could without relying on his powers; His head was empty of all thoughts, except for the static, which was a constant at this point. He just wanted to disappear, leave it all behind.
He reached his beloved, safe Dondai. He dug into his pockets but he couldn't find the key. Damn it! He was a nerve wreck already and the alcohol wasn't helping! Maybe they were inside. Steven reached for the door with his claws…
Hands! He reached for the door with his human hands but it was dead locked.
Fuck… FUCK! His mind screamed as the tremors took over him.
His name chimed in the wind. He didn't want to but he looked up. Soledad WAS running at him, carrying something on her hands. Steven's head hid a bit under the car roof but he didn't try to escape. There was something in Soledad's aura that told him making a run for it would be a bad idea.
"Steven!" she shouted again as she dropped herself on top of the roof.
Her breath was ragged and so was she. Steven feared she might be going through an asthma attack. His fears banished when she shouted at him:
"Whatsthedealman!" she said too fast for the human ear to listen. "You went all berserker back then and I… I thought we were having fun I…" Her hands went to her face and hair, trying to clean of the sweating. "Idontgetit."
"I know," said Steven. "I know and it's not your fault, it's mine and…" Steven's hands went to his head and applied numbing pressure at each side. "I'll won't bother you anymore, I promise. I tried to leave but I can't find my-"
"Keys?" she asked. He nodded silently.
Soledad dropped what she was holding on top of the Dondai. Ah, no wonder Steven was cold.
"Left your jacket by the table," she said. "Bet your keys are in here somewhere."
At this point, Steven wasn't sure if he was pink with panic or red with embarrassment. He grabbed his jacket; better to leave now than to make himself more of a fool. When he pulled for the piece of cloth, Soledad pulled back.
"Tell me what's wrong."
"Soledad," Steven begged.
"Tell me what's wrong or I'm taking your jacket hostage, andimnotkidding!"
Soledad's threat didn't do much to scare Steven off. He could rip it out of her hands, speed up, get in the car and leave before she'd time to blink. A thousand things he could do flashed through the swamp of his mind, and he did not a single one.
"I'm sorry," he said meekly, feeling like he was a kid again, in the worst way possible.
"Hey its… it's alright, really," said Soledad after a pause, "it's no big deal-"
"Yes it is," he shouted. "This used to be easier."
"This?"
"Talking to people," he explained. Oh, she mouthed. "It was easier when I was small and cute; it felt like I knew how to be…"
Normal. He didn't dare say it. His head touched the Dondai's roof. "Who am I kidding? I've always been weird, but back then I was a weird kid. Now I'm a weird grown up who doesn't know how to adult."
Soledad's nose wrinkled. "It's that what got you worried?" she asked sweetly. Then, she shouted. "DUDE. No-body knows how to adult! That's, like, the first thing you learn when you grow up. Everybody is learning from scratch stuff others already know, and that includes talking to people." She scoffed with feigned offense. "Also, you need more than some strong words and shouting to get me to hate you; in case that's what was eating you up."
Steven blushed. Either he was easier to read than what he thought (big change) or Soledad was sharper than what she let's on (also a strong possibility).
"So… you are not mad?" asked Steven.
"Oh, I am," she clarified. "Especially because you left before I could put you in your place. I mean… that's what friends do, right? They fight over dumb shit and make up later, right?"
Soledad was looking at nothing but Steven, and he, in turn, couldn't focus his gaze except on her eyes. It was like staring at a bank camera; except hazel-colored and prettier.
"Assumingyouwantustobefriendsimean-"
"I do."
The following silence was long, red, and warm. Steven distracted himself with his jacket. Trusty, reliable, good ol' organic jacket. He hated to admit it, but pink had always been his color. Steven fished inside the left pocket. Yep, there were the keys.
"So, uh, want to tell me what was bothering you?" asked Soledad. "All in spirit of knowing how to best yell at you."
Now, that was a crossroad. The keys were in Steven's hands, his car was right there. Any excuse could do. Damn, forget the excuses; Steven just had to ride this wave of awkwardness and surf off out of this problem. Drive the car back to the motel while he listened to his discount mix tape, collapse over his room's bed and wake up tomorrow, fresh as a vegetable and with the memories —both good and bad— of this night slowly banishing from his booze-free head.
That was one road. The other road was rockier, but perhaps the view was better?
Steven chose the latter: he told her everything. Or, almost everything. He spared her the bits about gems, magic, and the near-apocalyptic experience Earth went through. No need to blew up her head.
Instead, Steven told her a story. It was about a boy; a kid born of a death mother, with a homeless father. A kid who grew up in a van, suffering cold and heat. A kid who, barely a toddler, left his dad to live with his mother's friends. His childhood was full of love, but lonely; no school, no family vacations or doctor appointments. No friends —except for one. The kid learnt to be self sufficient; and he learnt so well that when he grew up, he began to take care of others. He became his family's emotional pillar; the caretaker of his caretakers.
And when that kid grew into a man and nobody needed him anymore, he learned an awful truth. Without anybody to take care of, he was nobody.
So he picked his Dondai and hit the road. And he never looked back —although he does calls home every two days tops. Just to keep the appearances.
Soledad listened carefully, not interrupting except for making an occasional remark.
"Woah," she said once it was over, and then added a profound: "Heavy."
Steven hummed in response. At some point they've climbed the Dondai to rest over the roof. Time was a shapeless weave of strings, and Steven was trapped inside it. He knew he'd talked —his throat was sore and his chest was heavy—, he remembered what he has spoke about, but the actual conversation was blurry. It wouldn't be fair to blame it on the booze; the dissociation episodes have been a constant in his life even before he started therapy —and Dr. A. already warned him they won't go away overnight.
Soledad's soft laughter brought Steven back from the nebula of his mind.
"What's so funny?" he asked.
"Nothing, just thinking on how similar we are. On the whole 'expectations and loneliness' thing, not the whole 'taking care of your whole good-for-nothing family'," she clarified. Her eyes were fixed on the sky. "I mean, I'd never taken care of anything. I had a rabbit when I was a kid, and it died. Then I got a cactus —which also died. The only reason I didn't die was because there was always someone around —an assistant, a nanny, someone to take care of me but my mom and it was…"
"Well it was very lonely, somehow," she concluded with a moan. "I do envy you tho. If I'd been more self-reliant back then maybe I won't be so useless now."
"You are not useless," said Steven.
"I am. Ask Rain about it."
Steven sat up with the effort of a brick lifting itself from the ground.
"You are not useless," he insisted. "Do you think anyone could do the things you do? You think I could? At least you have a plan. Well, two plans," he corrected himself. "One way or another, you'll know what to do."
The comment stirred something in Soledad. Her aura shifted back to anger and she grimaced.
"Yesh, talkaboutgoingbackintotopic," she said. "I was just trying to relate to you."
Ah, there it was again. The whole 'I'll stop thinking about my problems by focusing on someone else's'. Classic Steven. Soledad's aura spin around herself, shutting down; she crossed her arms to fit the point. The bridge he'd felt before appeared before him again. He could feel Soledad's reluctance to keep this conversation. Her fear of doing something wrong, disguised under all the anger. It was personal and deep and Steven didn't like to feel it. He saw his own hand was over Soledad's. He retreated it and the bridge banished.
"You're right, I'm sorry," he said, slightly more composed. "You opened up to me and I made it about myself; I should had just listened and shut my big mouth."
Soledad's aura shifted into calm and… bashfulness?
"Its fine, really," she said. "Jeez, in any case I should be sorry for dropping my entire luggage over you. I didn't mean to take you down memory lane."
"I live in memory lane, don't worry about that," joked Steven. "And don't apology for ups… making people mad. Especially if it's an accident."
The sudden grow in Soledad's aura almost made Steven smile. And the wicked look on her face finally caused it.
"That sounds like solid advice." Soledad put a hand on her chin, as if deep in thought. "Maybe you should follow it."
"Heh, maybe I should."
She looked at Steven with those big feline eyes. Steven decided —for no particular reason— he'd rather look at the sky. The stars were beautiful tonight.
"Soledad?"
"Yeah?"
"I think I'm drunk."
"No kidding. What prompt… what… how can you tell?"
"Sky's moving."
Well, that wasn't all true; Steven actually felt like his head was moving, spinning at speeds never seen before. Steven had never been much for going to space —too many bad memories up there. At that moment, however, he wondered how is that everything that was up there made more sense than what was happening down here?
The only thing keeping him truly grounded was the girl at his side. They were really cramped there, over the Dondai, and Steven tried not to even touch Soledad, in fear it might open the bridge again. He has to many emotions on his own to having to deal with someone else's.
They spent some time chatting about nonsense they forgot as soon as it left their mouths. They only stopped when Rain and Peeps came by. By their looks and auras, they were tired —and drunker than they'll ever admit.
"You lovebirds are done there? Cause food's not free and you need to help me pack the camp."
As he stepped down the car, Steven's head went from being numb to being overcrowded.
Why did she mean by 'lovebirds'? I have I girlfriend! I did say that, didn't I?
He faced Rain and Peeps, with Soledad by his side. Well, here goes nothing.
"Listen, I'm sorry for-"
"If you guys are cool we're cool," Rain interrupted, with a dismissive hand gesture. "Just try not to yell so loud next time. You scared all the birds from the woods."
"Oh, right. Sorry."
Steven was gonna extend the same apology to Peeps, when the man manhandled him into a headlock.
"You need to relaaax, Steven," he said, and Steven tried not to smell his odor of sweat mixed with frying oil. "That was nothing like last time Rain and Sol had a fight. Remember?"
"You kidding? Miss Goodwillson called the cops and everything. Good thing it was the Deputy that came by, because Lowe would have give us hell," said Rain.
Soledad huffed, as red as possible. "Why do you always brought that back?"
The conversation continued pleasant and natural. Steven even dared to add a comment here and there. He was footloose, almost ecstatic. Ever since he left home —and for most part of that day— he'd been worried about being seen as weird, strange. Not normal.
And that's exactly what happened! He'd made a whole scene and has claimed the title of King and Queen of weirdness. And yet, here he was. The world didn't end. He was still alright.
Dr. A. words came back to him.
"I know you won't believe me, Steven, and I don't blame you," she said. "The trauma you'd to go through was too intense, and yes, it'll probably be with you for the rest of your life."
Dr. A. extended a comforting hand. Steven took it. It was cold but soft to the touch.
"But I need you to know this: you deserve to be happy. And you need to give yourself the opportunity to be. The war is over, Steven. You can move on."
Steven made a mental note to thank her in their next session. She may've been right after all.
The four of them were heading into the camping site when he reached for Soledad's arm.
"Hey Sol, can I give you a ride home?" he said, almost begged. "I mean, I burnt half my tank already, I might as well use the rest." He played with his turtleneck's neck. "Also, I want to make it up to you."
Soledad showed again that wicked look that Steven was starting to fear.
"Ya just want another therapy shesh with me, don't you?" she poked Steven's side, hitting his laughing bones.
"No way. You have too much baggage to be a therapist." He stopped her ministrations by holding her hand.
Then he stopped moving. She was happy. Soledad was happy around him. He'd only known him for a few hours, and somehow, she felt this… this connection to him. It was strange; she felt like they'd known each other since forever.
Of course, the connection she was feeling was the bridge Steven accidentally opened, and he knew it. But it was odd Soledad could sense it too.
"GIRL! Come on, I want to leave already," came Rain's yelling from the truck. She had some gloves on and a wet dish on her hand.
Soledad's hand slid oh-so-softly away from Steven's. She flashed him a disarming smile before running to help Rain in the kitchen. Peeps was unplugging the pinball machines. Steven decided to help by taking the trash.
He went to the table they used and grabbed everything that was not a plate. Papers, leftover fries. And there was also another thing; a sketchbook and some pencils. That's right, Steven had caught a glance of Peeps drawing something. He gave a glance behind his back before opening the book.
What he saw left him speechless. He was greeted by his own face made in pencil, tears in his eyes, laughing like there was no tomorrow. Next to him was Soledad, in a relaxed pose, telling and endless, silent joke. Of course, there were kinks here and there. His nose wasn't so small, and Soledad wasn't quite as tall, and of course there were too many unnecessary strokes.
But there was such a pure emotion radiating from that drawing. Something so mundane and simple. It was an image of Steven himself, from the eyes of someone else. Weird, good ol' Steven.
He closed the book cautiously and went back to pick up the trash. In his mind, Dr. A's mantra repeated on loop.
The war is over, he chanted internally, and this time he could almost believe it. The war is over…
Well there it is!
This chapter was complex (i know, i said the same about all the other chapters...). I wrote Rain's scene in the first version; in fact, she had two scenes in this chapter. Then in the second version i decided to cut the second scene, and finally i cut down the first one too. But then, before i uploaded it, i decided to keep the scene, even if the sudden change in POV is a bit confusing. I think it adds to Rain and Peeps' characterization and explain a few things (And creates new questions, hopefully).
Anyway, next chapter is gonna be the last one of the first part, so dont miss it!
