Chapter 36

The final quarter of the school year begrudgingly arrived, bringing an onslaught of rising panic over finals, and the dreadful disease known as 'senioritis.' Matthew had that since halfway through eleventh grade, but he could see the strain in the younger students' and even the teachers' eyes. Alfred tried to keep up, but even he was a victim.

Matthew could not sleep. Perhaps it was too warm under the blankets. Perhaps the rain hit his bedroom window too hard. Perhaps it was due to Alfred flapping his hands and squealing the previous night, "Dude, we're graduating tomorrow!"

Eventually, Matthew would fall asleep.

Eventually...

Matthew managed to cram three hours of unconsciousness before his alarm on his phone ripped him awake. With a beastly yell, he pulled himself to sit and huffed at the morning light streaming through the clouds and into his bedroom. He blinked at a sea of colors dotting along the walls, and sniffed at a heavy scent of floral fragrance.

Matthew snatched his glasses from their case and jammed them over his eyes. He gasped as many flowers consumed his bedroom. It was a lot of work, but he hustled out of bed to gape at all the colors, sizes and shapes. "You...where are you? Why aren't you here now?"

The quiet bedroom did not reply, and as excited Matthew wanted to be, the obligation to get something in his belly called louder than somebody that was not there anymore. Tearing himself from his room, he hurried as quickly as he could without throwing himself down the steps and into the kitchen.

Francis flipped a crêpe onto a building stack, while Alfred slumped against the island counter, slipping back to dreamland. Dad turned around with the plate of pastries, and lightly smacked him on the back of his head. Alfred snorted and snapped to attention "You will get drool on the counter!"

A permanent grin stuck to Matthew's face as he settled beside his brother. "Good morning, Papa," Alfred lifted the crêpes like he was paging through a book, and his glasses were missing from his bleary blues. "How'd you sleep?"

Alfred made a sound as if he were dying.

"That bad?" Matthew delicately balanced on sleep deprivation, but he still had the bruises beneath his eyes to tattle.

"I thought you were a morning person!" Francis exclaimed as he dragged out the stool across from Alfred. He slapped away the hand molesting the crêpes, and grabbed some of his own before pushing the plate to Matthew. "Even Matthieu can sit up straight and it is not even eight in the morning!"

Matthew ducked his head.

Alfred managed to say, "I'm not a waking up person."

"Ah, the both of you!" Their father tisked, shaking his head as much as he did the can of whipped cream. "You are going to be graduating high school today! High! School! They call it beauty sleep for a reason!"

"Couldn't sleep," the brothers claimed at the same time.

Alfred reached for the crêpe platter, and crammed one plain into his face. "Mmph, that's tasty." He pushed himself to sit straight, slowly revived with food in his mouth.

"We need to leave in twenty minutes," Francis said. "Remember, they want pale clothes underneath the gowns."

"That's so stupid." Alfred grumbled, "Why white gowns? We're all going to look like ghosts."

Matthew added, "With pointy hats."

"Ghost pirates...'cause they have pointy hats, too."

Francis happily disagreed, "No, you will look like my little angels."

"With pointy hats," Matthew repeated drowsily. Alfred shrugged, but kept his gaze to the counter when his brother gave him a curious look. When he was done stuffing himself, he pushed the now empty plate away and slumped back onto the counter.

"Be sure to wash your faces. It will freshen you up!"

~.~

~HOLYBOING~

~.~

Out of a class of a couple hundred seniors, the twins were called near the beginning, which left an uneventful and obnoxious amount of time to simply sit in the auditorium and listen to the droning of name after name, after name. Through the tearful speeches and sobbing and clapping, a snore ripped from someone's face. Matthew gave his brother a sour look for sleeping, also sour from wanting to sleep, too. He kept himself occupied with polite clapping whenever a name was called, which grew more and more sarcastic closer to the end. His hands stung.

The assistant principal took the podium last, spewing a few more sentimental words, as if there were not enough for more than an hour. "Congratulations, Class!"

Matthew repeatedly yanked his brother's sleeve. "Alfred. Alfred! They're throwing the hats!"

Alfred suddenly shot to his feet, whooping and flinging his cap. Matthew tossed his at a more docile height, so it would fall back to his upstretched hands. Just as his fingers snagged the white fabric, his brother barreled into him for a spine-cracking embrace. Instead of breathlessly yelling at him, or trying to gasp for air, he drummed his hands against Alfred's back, laughing as hard as he was.

"We did it. We did it!" Matthew cheered, unable to hear his words over the surrounding commotion. "No more waking up at those hours anymore!"

However, Alfred slouched and blubbered incoherently.

"What's that?! You're crying? You said you wouldn't!"

"Don't be an ass!" Alfred sobbed, releasing Matthew so he could lift his glasses and drag his sleeve over his eyes. "It's a big deal!"

Matthew lightly punched his other arm clutching onto his diploma. "I know! That's why we have to find Dad!"

Alfred smiled and nodded, following where he slipped through the crowd. White (and beige for the girls) swished all around them as they struggled toward one of the many exits for fresh air, but the crowd jostled and lashed right back, trying to entrap him in the building. Matthew wanted to shout for them to move, for more space, for less noise, but they would not listen.

He glanced behind himself, skittering to a halt when he realized Alfred was nowhere to be found. "Alfred?" He could hardly hear his own words. A larger body shoved into Matthew's, so he had no choice but to keep moving toward the doors. Even when his feet were stepped on, and his teeth rattled by his classmates, he found himself unable to stop smiling. He could sleep in everyday he wanted to now. Oh, and no more homework and bring-home projects, of course.

His eyes naturally trailed after a taller figure bobbing amongst the sea of whites and tans, jumping in place to see over everyone's heads. He laughed at that, about to turn back to focus on reaching the exits, but stopped, eyes wide and mouth open like an idiot when he recognized that someone. Their eyes met.

"Watch out!" Matthew spat to all, for their safety as he mercilessly barreled pass them. He laughed about that, too.

This day cannot get any better.

Matthew threw himself at the guy. Sturdy arms wound around his waist, shielding him from the crazed hoard of graduates, and guided him through the crowd much easier than he did on his own. He stuck his face against a familiar pale scarf, suffocating himself with the scent of campfire as his legs blindly followed to the bright outside world.

"Matthew, Matthew, Matthew," Ivan's voice chanted in his ear. I missed you, I missed you, I missed you. Matthew closed his eyes against the fingers rummaging through his hair, almost missing the question, "Was I gone for too long?"

Matthew reached up to press his fingertips to Ivan's cheek, marveling at the smile that was for him, and stood on his toes to decorate his mouth with his own. "You came back. I'm so glad..."

Ivan blinked against another eager kiss, and smiled from the whispery "I missed you's" and a "I can't believe it." Somebody ran by, screaming their head off for whatever reason. He giggled, "What, you...you think I would have not come back?"

A flush of red plagued Matthew's cheeks as he vehemently shook his head, "Oh, I started to think that like, an hour after you left." Words tumbled out, "Don't worry about it. I'm just being stupid." His hands petted the lapel of Ivan's dress jacket, and he gushed, "Ha-ha, look at you, Mister Demon, all decked out in white..."

Another student squealed, "Ew!"

They yanked away from one another to stare, but it was just a few kids crowded around another one showing them a video. Ivan leaned his head down to nestle his face against Matthew's hair as he put a fist to his mouth, hiding some of his face from his classmates. "I would not think I would say it, but I think I am...relieved to get out of there."

"That bad?"

"Oh, it was absolutely awful."

"Let's not talk about it."

"We will need to eventually."

"I know, just not now." They locked eyes again, and Matthew started to grin like an idiot. "We...we should find my dad, or else he might call for a search party."

Ivan tipped his head. "He would do that?"

"I don't want to find out."

The crowd had eased into giant clumps of families lumbering toward the exists in unsightly white/beige herds. Ivan took a deep inhale, and turned his head to a specific spot in the crowd. "Your family is that way."

"Whoa. Did you run into them earlier?"

"No, but I can sense them. They are over here."

Matthew echoed, "Sense? Hey, you do have that jewel thing in, right?" The lack of response made a slow smile creep onto his face. "Ivan..."

"No. I am only cloaked right now. I would not be able to find you otherwise. Ah, but nobody can tell the difference as long as we do not say anything about it, yes?"

Sly devil! Matthew latched onto his arm and squeezed, never wanting to lose him again.

"Mattie! Mattie!"

Matthew jerked his chin toward an arm flailing above people's hats. "That could only be Alfred."

A deep wail shot across the floor, "Mattie!"

Ivan exclaimed, "He sounds as if he is dying!"

Matthew pointed a finger-gun, and Alfred clamped his hands on his chest and stumbled backwards. "Hey, you!"

Alfred was much more awake at the moment than he had been earlier. "Hey, you!" He took a step back when he glanced to Ivan. "Whoa, you're here, too!"

"Surprise!"

"Uh-huh! Yeah!" Alfred hovered closer to Matthew, and their heads ducked together in secret, "Arthur's back."

"Huh?" Matthew automatically scanned the crowd. He caught their father's back, recognizing that hair flick, and Arthur in front of him. Neither of them seemed too engrossed in whatever conversation they had. Arthur's eyes locked with Matthew's. He tried to keep his tone even, "Have you spoken with him yet?"

"Not really...not enough time, you know?" Alfred hurried to the old folks and tugged on his sleeve. He pointed to Matthew, bouncing up and down, and Francis' face lit up as they approached.

Ivan said, "We should get the iced cream after this."

Matthew exclaimed, "Ooh, Alfred would love that."

"No, no," Ivan murmured under his breath. "Without Alfredo. Just us."

"This is a family thing, Ivan."

Francis seemed to praise Heaven when he exclaimed, "Oh, there you are!" He swished a hand toward himself, while his other gripped a camera. "Come, come! I need to take pictures!" He pointed at Ivan when he hung back for Matthew to join his brother. "That includes you, too!"

"Pictures? Should I strike a pose?"

"Of course!" Francis motioned to Arthur, then to a spot in front of his sons. "You too. Try to make yourself look pretty while you are here."

Arthur bristled as he stomped over to everyone else "Is that necessary?"

"You know it is. Short people in the front!"

"I am not short!" Arthur glanced behind himself, to the others with a sour, yet unnecessary grumble, "It's just he's too tall."

Ivan chuckled, baffled, "Too tall? I am sorry to hear you were not stretched out when you were a baby!"

Alfred muttered to himself, "The fuck?"

Francis brandished his arms with a loud,. "Hello! We are supposed to be smiling for photos, not getting pissy!"

Alfred blurted, "Yeah, Artie!"

"Oh, shut it."

Francis prompted, "How about we say, 'cheese!'"

Ivan asked, "Why?"

"So you can pretend to look happy!"

Alfred was the only one who laughed at that. Everyone else looked awkward, wanted to pass out, or a combination of both. It took only a couple of snaps for Francis to suggest that he take a few photos of his sons, as Arthur's not-so subtle glowing was 'throwing off his aesthetic.'

That made everyone happier, and the pictures kept coming much less unnatural looking, until a teen in the background made a stupid face, and Francis cut the photo shoot short to properly scold him.

The five of them proceeded to get ice cream.

~.~

~BOING~

~.~

"Chocolate?" Alfred asked, "You got chocolate?"

Ivan gave him a suspicious look from the corner of his eye as they waited at the counter. "Yes..."

"Yeah!" Alfred held out a clenched hand. "Fist bump!"

"What?"

"Fist bump!"

"You want me to punch you?"

Alfred shook his fist. "No! Bump our fists together!"

"Oh, okay..." Ivan uncertainly balled his hand before clunking his with Alfred's.

"Yeah! Fist bump!" The cashier handed them two cones, and Alfred cheered over that, too. "Yeah! Ice cream!"

"Just what are you?"

Matthew laughed and shook his own cone at his brother when they joined the squad. "Ha-ha, vanilla!"

"Ha-ha, you are vanilla!"

"Ass!"

Francis put a hand to his cheek and lightheartedly sighed, "Boys..."

Arthur asked no one in particular, "All this stigma. Does anybody like strawberry?"

Ivan smacked his lips and exclaimed, "Cold!"

There was a quiet whining sound, and a look of horror donned on both of their faces as Francis' shoulders started to shake. "Uh oh. Boys, your father-"

"My baby boys!"

Francis learned that ice cream parlors were not a good choice to break down to tears. They were asked 'politely' to eat their treats outside to give the indoor customers a sense of peace. Once they hobbled outside, he threw his arms around his sons' shoulders, wailing, "My baby boys are all grown up! It was just yesterday when I dressed you up in those matching polo's and sent you off to primary school!"

"Just yesterday?" Ivan echoed.

Alfred cried, shielding his waffle cone from the invasion, "My ice cream!"

Matthew glanced at somebody, anybody, for help from Francis' blubbering with sobs. His brother was focused on escaping his predicament. Arthur stared at the late afternoon skies, allowing his ice cream to melt onto his hand, unaffected by the cold, while Ivan stuck his tongue out at his own cone, claiming, "I cannot feel my mouth anymore."

Francis continued, even when Alfred ducked away from him, using his free arm to cover his eyes. "You two used to be the cutest things! Oh, you are still cute, but now, you are handsome men! Your nineteenth birthdays are in less than a month! I do not believe it! What will I do?!"

"Stop, Dad, chill out," Matthew pleaded, giving his father's arm a shake. "Your ice cream's going to melt!"

"Oh, my ice cream," Francis sniffled, and used his shirt sleeve to dab at his eyes before taking the cone Alfred waved at him. He whispered to the half melted treat, "Pauvre vieux."

Alfred elbowed his brother, muttering, "Yeah, poor thing is right! You know he's sad when he talks to his food."

"Next, you will have to find jobs, or a good college, somewhere not too far away." Francis kept rambling, "Money is not a big concern, I suppose. We will just have to work through loans and finding scholarships, but that job at the bookstore will not do much for long, Matthieu."

The brothers exchanged a shocked look. Matthew rubbed his father's shoulder. "I know, Papa. I'll look into something."

"Dad, we just graduated a few hours ago."

Arthur turned his head and stared at Alfred's back as Francis snuffed into his sleeve again, "It is best to get going as soon as possible. Colleges will be flooding our mailboxes much more now school is out."

Alfred let out weak laughter, "Yeah, they been bugging us ever since twelfth grade started."

Matthew dropped his gaze to the sidewalk as guilt chewed at his stomach, making for a clammy mix with the ice cream.

By then, Ivan wiggled between the brothers and tuned to the conversation, "Mister Francis, what is this 'college' you keep speaking of?"

"You do not know?" Francis flinched, "Oh, you need to excuse me. I forgot about...err...why you would not know. It is an opportunity to further education after high school."

"You finish this high school to get into more schools? Eugh."

"Well, you do not have to," Francis crinkled his nose. "Some jobs do not require-"

"Ah, good! I was hoping that Matthew and I-"

Matthew slapped a hand over Ivan's sticky mouth, causing everyone to stare. "Uh...he was wondering if we could go home now. It's been a long day, and my feet are starting to hurt."

Alfred piped up at a good time, "I want to go home, too."

Francis eyed Matthew as he took his hand back, smiling uneasily. "D'accord...since you both want to leave."

Completely missing the gesture to keep his mouth shut, Ivan declared, "I wanted you to know that I would like to take your son to Hell, so we can live as one forever and ever!"

Francis' shoes ground against the sidewalk as he stopped and whirled onto the beast. "Excusez-moi?"

Matthew gaped. "Why would you say that to him?!"

Alfred seemed conflicted between bursting in laughter or being horrified.

"Your father needs to know eventually. It would be rude of me to snatch you away without letting him telling him of these things."

"Matthieu? Is this true?"

Arthur watched everything with a little smirk on his face.

"I-I...well...we have to talk about it first," Matthew glared at Ivan as he said it. Ivan only seemed bewildered from the confrontation. "Um...just think of how it was when I went on Spring Break, but a little longer. Like I said, we got to talk about when and how long...Dad?"

A low noise of distress.

"Uh oh." Alfred hollered, "He's gonna to cry!"

Francis slapped his free hand over his face, and promptly busted into tears.

Blehps:

(1) "I thought you were a morning person!" Francis exclaimed as he dragged out the stool across from Alfred. He slapped away the hand molesting the crêpes, and grabbed some of his own before pushing the plate to Matthew. "Even Matthew can sit up straight and it is not even eight in the morning!"

"Hah!" Alfred threw his head back. "There's nothing straight about Matthew."

Matthew agreed, "Especially at eight in the morning."

(2) "Matthew, Matthew, Matthew," Ivan's voice chanted in his ear. I missed you, I missed you, I missed you. They did not need to say the words aloud.

"Donuts, donuts, donuts."

"What?"

"Oh, sorry. I'm kind of hungry."