Chapter Twenty Three: Relief
Greg woke up with a start, cold sweat soaking his shirt. Bad dream. Probably a really bad one if it had woken him up like that, but for the life of him he couldn't remember what it'd been about. Any details had fled his mind as soon as he'd opened his eyes. Maybe it was better that way.
He rolled over onto his side, his back towards Steven, who had somehow wedged himself between his dad and the van's wall in his sleep. It was still dark out. Greg closed his eyes and tried to relax, hoping to drift back to sleep, but he was too uncomfortable, too riled up to manage it.
In the end, he decided to get out of bed as quietly as he could (he didn't want to wake Steven), grab the nearest musical instrument he could find (a concert ukulele), and head out of the van into the cold, early morning air.
For as long as he could remember, music had always helped him sort through his feelings, especially when the emotions churning inside him were more intense than usual. That was how he'd written a good number of his songs, actually. There was just something there, in the feel of strings under his fingertips, in the release of emotional energy through his voice, in the weaving of sounds and rhythm and musical harmony. Different chords had always held certain meanings for him, especially when they were grouped together in a song's context— much like how a poet would utilize words, or a painter would colors.
At the moment, he was idly strumming the chords to Sky Blue Goddess, probably because he'd heard it on repeat the night before and it got stuck in his head. He could feel the tension in his shoulders melt a little each time his fingernails hit the strings. It started with a simple rhythm: down, down-up, up-down-up; down, down-up, up-down-up. D always had a down-to-earth feeling, A gave a sense of adventure, B minor heralded something important, G was steady and somehow romantic...
But soon, the chords he played changed into something much more melancholic, the rhythm into a slow and somber pace. Even the lyrics he sang were different from the original, until it became an entirely new song:
I don't even know if I really knew
What kind of person was the real you
You've taken all what the stars have to offer
And even the Earth was just part of your coffer
You're a Sky Blue Goddess
But that doesn't mean you're made of kindness
I don't really know what to think anymore
Learning the truth shook me... at my very core...
Eyes tightly shut, he sustained that last note for as long as he could. His voice reverberated from his chest, to his throat and into the air— his mixed feelings resounding from deep within his heart, turning into words from his mouth and spilling out in the open.
He held on for as long as he could until it was physically painful to keep doing so.
So he let it go.
When he was done, he silently wiped away the tears streaming down his cheeks and slowly opened his eyes.
Out of the corner of his sight, he spotted Pearl. She was just peeking out from the corner of the car wash building, and seemed to be waffling over whether or not she should head towards the van. When she noticed him watching her, she tensed up.
Greg tried to give her a reassuring smile, but his cheeks felt too stiff. Instead, he gave her a little wave, not quite beckoning for her to come closer but still hoping she would.
"Hey, Pearl," Greg greeted as Pearl approached him.
"Gregory." She bowed low from the waist, her head almost touching the ground as her arms swept outward to the sides.
Startled, Greg almost stepped on his ukulele in his rush over to her. "No, Pearl, you don't have to—" he cried. Just a few days ago, Pearl's courtly bows had seemed so innocent, so normal. Just another social quirk of an alien. But now, knowing what he did, he finally saw the gesture for what it really was— she was prostrating herself before him. "Please stand up, Pearl. Please... "
She straightened up, but her head remained lowered. "But I must apologize for yesterday."
"W-what?" Greg asked. "Why? What are you even apologizing for?"
"Because I have upset Steven," she said. "And I have made you angry."
"I wasn't angry." The words came out louder than he meant, and he struggled to keep his voice under control. "I-I mean— kay, I was, but I wasn't angry at you. I was just—" Breathe in, breathe out. Just like they'd taught Steven. " I'm the one who should be apologizing to you, Pearl. All this time, I had no idea you were— That your relationship with Blue was— I was angry at myself for not realizing."
Pearl stood there, face unreadable under her hair, leaving Greg flustered and floundering.
"A-Anyway, things don't have to stay that way with me and Steven. If there's anything you want to have or do— anything at all— we'll do everything in our power to give it to you. As our way to make it up to you."
"...Make it up to me?" That got Pearl to finally raise her head, her expression flummoxed.
"Yeah. Like reparations or back pay or..." Greg recalled one of Steven's suggestions from the previous night, and latched onto it. "I dunno, do you want your own apartment? I know it's not enough to make up for all the years you've been with us, but if you want, I'm sure we can work something out..."
"I do not understand what you are asking of me, Greg. I do not require payment for merely performing my duties."
"Yeah, about that... you don't really need to do any duties or chores or whatever. Uhh, if you don't want to, I mean. Just, umm..."
"Oh." Pearl's voice was even quieter than usual. "I see… I should not have come back."
She turned to leave, and panic rose up within him.
"No!" he cried, flailing out on instinct, grabbing her by the shoulder before she could run off again. She froze under the touch, and Greg flinched, quickly pulling back his hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean— I don't— I'm not kicking you out or anything." Out of his throat came a strangled noise which could have been a laugh. "It's fine, if... if you wanna leave. What I'm saying is… Just do what you feel like doing, I guess?"
"I... will try."
It was hardly the most reassuring thing she could have said.
But what could he expect? He didn't know how old Pearl was, but if Blue was any indication, she could be thousands of years old as well. This had to be so… sudden for her. Change wouldn't happen overnight.
"I guess that's a start." He sighed, realizing it would take more than that. He couldn't just… tell Pearl to do what she wanted. That would make it too easy for all of them to fall back into old habits. "And I'll be sure to try harder to check in on what you want to do or how you feel about stuff. Okay?"
"I understand." Pearl nodded, before turning her head towards the van. "Is Steven still asleep?"
Greg startled a little, suddenly noticing how bright it was. Dawn had snuck up on him. "Yeah, still tuckered out last I checked."
Pearl nodded again, but said nothing else.
They stood there in awkward silence, looking everywhere but each other's eyes. Greg noticed his ukulele was still on the ground after he'd haphazardly dropped it in his rush earlier. He slowly picked it up as he cast around for some topic of conversation to cut through the stiffness.
"So, uh, I've been thinking… If you really don't want to live in your own place..." He glanced at Pearl, who gave the slightest of nods. "Well, since the situation has changed with the Crystal Gems, maybe it's about time that we all live together again? I haven't brought it up with Steven yet, but I was thinking that moving as soon as possible would be for the best. What do you think?"
"He would greatly appreciate being around you more often."
"Yeah, but what do you think about it?"
"I... I think it will be a good thing." Pearl opened her mouth as if to say something more, but simply closed it again. Greg said nothing, waiting for her to collect her thoughts and voice them. Finally she continued, "Should I accompany him in gathering his belongings?"
"Do you want to accompany him?"
"I..." She clasped her hands to her breast, which was a usual gesture for her. What wasn't usual, however, was the slight way she wrung them. "Yes, I do."
"Then you probably should."
Another silence settled over, this one more comfortable somehow. It gave Greg a moment to appreciate the morning light, painting the ocean in pinks and yellows.
"Thank you for telling me your thoughts, Pearl." He gave her a smile, small but genuine. That was when he noticed the way Pearl had been holding herself. Her posture was perfect as always, but the way she relaxed when he smiled... It reminded him of some nature documentaries he'd watched, how gazelle relaxed once they knew the lions were gone.
"...You are welcome, Gregory," said Pearl, and now that Greg was paying closer attention to her subtler cues, she seemed to sound so... relieved.
He hated to take that relief away from her, but...
"There's one thing I need to know right now though, before anything else... If you're okay with answering, that is. But I... I really need to know, and I need your honest answer. Is that okay?"
"Of course. What would you like to know?"
"...Did Blue ever hurt you?"
"No, of course not. My Diamond was very kind," she answered without any hesitation, and Greg felt momentarily relieved. "And in turn, I did my best to be the Pearl she deserved. I had rarely given her a reason to chasten me. But even when I had and she had to take action, it was only because I deserved to be disciplined for my mistakes."
And just like that, any inkling of relief Greg had felt was replaced with renewed horror. Pearl had always been very deliberate with her choice of words, always a shade too specific than what any other person would use in a casual conversation. And what she had just said was setting off alarm bells in his head.
Oh gods... And what about me, did I hurt her without realizing? Did Steven?
But before he could ask, before he could even get a hold of his mouth enough to start shaping the words, the van's door swung open. Steven stepping out, rubbing his eyes.
"Dad, where did you put the... eggs..." he trailed off, taking in the scene before him. "...Pearl."
"My Steven," said Pearl.
Steven frowned. "Did I interrupt something? 'Cause I can just go back to making breakfast..."
"No."
Greg cast a quick glance between his son and Pearl, who subtly started to tense up again. He stepped forward, giving her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. "I was just talking to Pearl about you two moving here with me."
Steven blinked. "Here in Beach City?"
"Well…" Greg started. "At least for a while. I mean, the three of us can't really live in the van forever." He laughed, but it sounded stiff and forced, even to him. "Maybe until things settle down a bit…"
"And then we can go home?" Steven asked. "Back to the apartment?"
"Yeah, bud. But until then, we can just move some stuff from the Palanquin to the van."
Steven stared at them, still frowning, and Greg could practically see the gears turning in his head. Then he relaxed, a bright smile spreading across his face. "Okay. That'll be great, Dad! When are we doing this?"
"Uhh, today? If you're cool with it."
"It's totally cool! ...I mean, I'm totally cool with it, but I don't know if... I can move the Palanquin just yet."
Greg scratched the back of his neck. "That's... not exactly what I meant."
"Oh. I just thought, when you said moving here... you meant moving here."
"Nah. No pressure on getting that old thing to move, son." He knew the many attempts Steven had made at activating whatever psychic connection Blue had had with her Palanquin, and he knew the frustrations those failures had given him. "I just meant that... After everything that's happened lately, I'm not really comfortable with you and Pearl being out there on your own." Steven glanced down at the ground. Greg pushed on, determined to keep the tone light. "Maybe for now, you and Pearl could grab some essentials from the Palanquin, I'll move some stuff around in the van, and then we'll discuss about a bigger move later on. Sound good?"
"Yeah..." He turned to go back inside, then paused. "Does Pearl have to come with me? I mean, I can warp on my own and I know the way."
Out of the corner of his eye, Greg saw Pearl's already rigid posture stiffen even more. Her shoulders pushed back and the corners of her mouth twitched.
"Steven, after being captured and everything, I'd really appreciate if you had someone looking after you."
His son looked at Pearl, then back at Greg. "But Dad, the Crystal Gems aren't going to attack me again—"
"Please, Steven."
For a moment, Steven looked like he was going to argue some more, but something in Greg's tone stopped him. He glanced at Pearl again before nodding mulishly and going back into the van to grab his backpack.
Breakfast was forgotten about, which was fine by Greg. He wasn't hungry anyway.
Steven hurried around the Palanquin, placing another armful of clothing into the one of the cardboard boxes, regarding it for a moment, before deciding that he could probably fit a bit more into it. He walked back to his dresser and opened another drawer, considering what he should bring back to Beach City. He couldn't bring all of it, so he would need to chose carefully. And besides, he wouldn't be staying forever, so he didn't need to bring every single one—
He looked up from the drawer of clothes at the sound of soft, padding footsteps. He looked over to the table where the box was and saw Pearl placing something within.
"No, It's okay, Pearl," Steven said. "I can handle it."
For a moment it looked like Pearl was going to protest, but instead she merely nodded and stepped aside, hands folded over her gem. "Of course, my Steven."
Her title for him pricked at his heart, but he said nothing. Not for a lack of wanting to, but more for not knowing where to even begin. This morning, when Pearl had returned to the RV, he hadn't even managed to organize his thoughts into a coherent idea, let alone anything like bullet points to discuss.
How do you even discuss something like that anyway? That you had a slave your entire life and didn't even realize it?
Steven pursed his lips as he returned to the dresser. After a few moments of consideration, he picked out a few shirts, another two pairs of pants, and several pairs of underwear. He returned to the cardboard box and placed them inside before closing the lid.
"Okay," Steven said as he moved the now full box to the floor, replacing it with a new empty box. He moved towards the 'kitchen' area of the Palanquin. "Let me just grab what food we want to keep. We can donate the rest to that shelter in town. Then we can head back to the RV."
Pearl titled her head at him. "Perhaps I can begin taking boxes over to the warp pad in preparation of our—"
"No! You- I mean, you can just…hang out while I do this," Steven quickly said. "It's alright. I'm almost done."
He turned, not waiting for her response, and walked over to the small cupboard that stood next to the washing basin and the Palanquin's throne. There wasn't much inside— just some cereal, several packages of instant noodles, and various sweet cakes that Steven really liked. He tightened the corners of his mouth. They should probably just take all of this. After all, it was nonperishable, so they don't really have to worry about it going bad soon or anything like that.
Steven nodded to himself and had just laid his hand on the box of cereal, when he heard another sound behind him. For a split second, he thought it was Pearl again, trying to help. But another second passed and he realized that the sharp, jagged sound he was hearing wasn't footsteps.
It was crying.
He turned back around and saw that Pearl had left her place next to the table and had moved over to the study area. Kneeling on one of the pillows and had…something, maybe a book, in her hand.
But what still kept drawing him was the sound of her crying.
Did Pearl cry? Steven couldn't remember any other time he had ever heard her crying before. Sometimes he'd seen her, when he'd gotten over emotional and overwhelmed her, but those tears had always been small and silent.
Hearing her sobs and seeing her shoulders quake with each gasp was…strange. And unnerving.
Bracing himself, Steven hurried over to her and saw over her shoulder that she did indeed have a book in her hand. A story book to be exact; "Isabella and the Tower of Zenith". It had been one of his favorite stories when he was younger. Why was she crying over it?
"Pearl?" Steven asked cautiously. "Is... Is everything okay?"
Pearl let out a ragged sob before looking up. But she didn't turn to look at him.
"My Steven," she said in a breathy whisper. "Please. If I can no longer be of service, simply tell me. And I will go and no longer bother you or Greg."
Steven's mouth suddenly felt very dry and he could feel his heart began to race in his chest. "Is that what you want? To leave?"
She turned where she knelt and faced him. Her face was tear-stricken and her hair disheveled, revealing hints of her bright eyes. "I only want to make you happy," she said earnestly. "That is my purpose."
"What I want doesn't matter!" Steven shot back. "You shouldn't be doing things just because I want you to."
"But I must," Pearl replied, the book dropping from her hand. "I am a Pearl. This is my duty, my only purpose."
"No! You're a person!" Steven cried. "You should do what you want to do! Even if— Even if that means leaving..."
Silence crept over them. Pearl bowed her head and Steven could hear the soft sound of tears falling to the ground.
"My Steven," Pearl began softly. "Is that what you wish? For me to leave?"
"Pearl..."
"If that is what you want then simply tell me." She looked back at him, her cheeks glistening with freshly shed tears. "I do not wish to cause you, or Greg, any unease or discomfort."
Steven could feel his lips begin to tremble and his eyes flutter at the threat of tears. Because he knew what his answer to that question was. And he knew, just knew he was going to be selfish, but—
"Of course I don't want you to leave, Pearl," he said, his voice trembling at the effort of the words. "You're my Guardian. I don't want you to go anywhere."
"Then allow me to serve you as I have," Pearl said grabbing Steven's hand. "Allow me to be your Pearl, my Steve—"
"Stop calling me that!" Steven yelled, yanking his arm free from Pearl's grasp. "Stop calling me that! I'm not my mom!"
Pearl seemed to recoil from him, as Steven felt the familiar tingling that started in his chest and began spread throughout his body. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, taking deep, practiced breaths and mentally counting off in his head.
10
9
8
7
Breathe in...
6
5
4
3
Breathe out...
2
1
He opened his eyes again and Pearl was still sitting there, still looking at him with her barely hidden eyes. He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to speak, before finally words did emerge from his mouth.
"I'm not Blue Diamond." His voice was quiet and shaky. "I don't... I don't want a slave. And I don't want you to be a slave, Pearl."
"I am not a slave," Pearl responded. "I am a Pearl. I was created to serve."
"And that's not right!" Steven cried back, his vision starting to blur with tears. "You're Pearl, not a Pearl."
"There is no difference, my Steven." She either didn't notice or ignored Steven wincing at her words. She instead gestured around them. "The Palanquin was created as a Palanquin. That is what it is, what its purpose is. It would be foolish to try and make it anything else."
"The Palanquin is a thing," Steven said. "You're a person."
"I am a Pearl."
Steven exhaled sharply, letting his shoulders slump and his gaze to fall to the floor. He clamped his mouth shut, biting as hard as he could manage to try and stem the sobs that pushed to get out. It was not made any easier when her felt Pearl's arms wrap around him and pull him close.
"Oh, my Steven. You needn't worry," Pearl whispered easily into his ear. "This is my fault, for keeping all this from you until now. I should have told you this sooner."
"No, Pearl," Steven said, doing his best to keep his voice calm and even. He pulled away from her, and settled a steady gaze on her. "This... This isn't how it's going to be. You're not a thing. You're Pearl; you are your own person."
"My Stev—"
"No, stop calling me that," Steven interrupted. "I'm... I'm just Steven."
Pearl said nothing in return, only continuing to regard him in silence.
"I don't want you to- to serve me," Steven went on. "I just... I just want our family back. With you in it, Pearl."
For a moment, it looked as if Pearl was going to speak, but instead, her gaze fell and she turned away.
"No," she said softly. "I never should have— Gems don't have family. I am a Pearl and I know my place." She paused a moment. "I am merely a Pearl. A delicate, fragile thing that doesn't deserve to be regarded as... as family." Her voice cracked and Steven felt his own throat tighten as the tears threatened to resume.
"That's not true," he said.
"It is!" Pearl's voice cut like a knife. "I am worthless... a Pearl who has failed in her duties..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I am not the Renegade. I am... merely a Pearl..."
Steven sniffled and wiped his nose. "Well..." He scooted closer to her, before wrapping his arms around her in a snug hug. " I think you're pretty great."
Pearl was stiff in his embrace before relaxing, her body shaking with sobs.
"I love you, Pearl," Steven choked out before his own sobs made it impossible for him to speak anymore.
"Yes..." Pearl's voice was nearly unintelligible through her own crying. "I- I love you too...
"Steven..."
They both now sat across from each other on pillows in the corner, both still reeling from the onslaught of emotions that had overtaken them. They looked at each other in silence for a long time, neither saying anything, until Pearl finally spoke.
"You do not wish for me to call you 'my Steven'?"
Steven shook his head. "That's what you called mom. And... you were her slave. I'm not my mom. And you're not my slave."
Pearl was silent for a moment, before saying, "I'll admit. At first, that is why I referred to you as that. You were... I believed you were my Diamond. But... you are not."
"Then why did you keep using it?"
"Because... you are my Steven." She folded her hands in lap and considered them. "Watching you grow, taking care of you over the years..." She smiled softly. "Waking you up in the morning and making you breakfast as you ran around the apartment, taking you to the park, reading you stories..." She looked up at him, smile still in place. "As hard as it may be for the Crystal Gems to believe, I do enjoy my life with you and Greg, and now Lapis. It is... immeasurably better than the life I had on Homeworld."
Steven nodded slowly. "Okay. I... get that. But... Mom's not here. And this isn't Homeworld. And... it feels uncomfortable now. To me, and definitely to the Crystal Gems."
"I see..." Pearl said. "But I cannot refer to you simply as 'Steven'."
"Why not?"
She held her own hands. She didn't know how to put these things into words. She took a long time to even attempt to phrase it correctly. "It is too plain. I wish to convey how important you are to me."
"Oh," said Steven, his cheeks turning pink.
There was a moment of silence, and then Pearl said, "I suppose there are other terms of endearment I could use. Like… honey, I think?"
"You could," Steven said, slowly. Dad used stuff like that all the time, after all. It just sounded… weird, coming from Pearl's mouth.
Pearl was quiet for a moment before saying, "Well, I will try different ones out. Perhaps I can find a few that feel… right."
Steven smiled. "Okay.. It'll be a start... A start of whole new part of our lives."
"Perhaps," Pearl smiled back at him. "Though, I believe we may have already started that on that evening at the Fountain."
"Yeah," Steven chuckled.
"Still though..." Pearl raised her hand, letting it hover over her gem, before her gem began to glow. Something was clasped in her hand and she raised it to her face, pulling aside her bangs and revealing the bright yellow star hairclip stuck in her hair. "How do I look?"
Her eyes blinked out at him, large, blue, and hopeful.
"Like a whole new part of our lives."
Pearl's smile widened. "Then it is fitting." She rose from her seat, Steven doing the same. "Come. No doubt the others are wondering what is taking us so long."
She walked over to the table, Steven following after her, and with just a moment's pause, bent over and picked up one of the tightly packed boxes. Steven quickly picked up the other.
"Come, dear," she said gently. "Let us return to Beach City. No doubt Greg will wish to know... what we have talked about."
After being alone in the van for nearly two hours, Greg couldn't stop the worry stewing in his stomach. The relief when Steven and Pearl arrived was palpable. Their eyes were red, but there was a comfortable air around them. Conversation flowed relatively lightly while they helped get Steven properly settled in.
Even that didn't take long. And once they were finished, Greg encouraged Steven to go explore the town.
"Will you guys come with me?'
Greg gave the briefest of glances towards Pearl, then said, "You don't want us old farts trailing you all day, do ya? Go on, see the sights, meet the folks. They're nice."
He'd hesitated a little, but Greg had slipped him a ten dollar bill, and off he'd went.
After that, he'd gently encouraged Pearl to go have some free time of her own. It had only taken a little reassurance on his part that no, really, the van was perfectly neat… and also, Lapis was looking a little lonely out there.
And he was left, alone, in his van.
Greg sat by the kitchen table, feeling kinda at a loss.
Finally, he fished out his phone, scrolled down to near the bottom of his contact list. There was a ringing; one, two three…
"Yo, what up?" came a voice.
"Hey Vi," said Greg. "Are we having cards night this week?"
After nearly three years working at the Big Donut, Sadie had learned to latch onto anything that spiced up the monotony of a normal day. Which including the stunning excitement of having a brand new customer.
Specifically, Steven Universe.
Sadie remain professional, greeting him with the official, "Welcome to the Big Donut, can I take your order?"
The boy smiled shyly up at her, while he took the time to go over the menu. Sadie chatted with him a bit, directing him to some stuff he might like. When he finally chose a hot chocolate and jelly-filled donut, she helped him sort through his money.
"It's confusing that the bills are all green," he mumbled. Apparently he was visiting from Korea, where they all came in different colors.
"So, like monopoly money?" Lars muttered.
"Pardon?" said Steven.
Lars blanched and said, "Nothing!"
Sadie looked at him sidelong. It was the only thing he'd said since the boy had entered the shop. That wasn't weird in of itself— Lars usually tended to wear earphones and ignore all customers— but there was something different this time. He was obviously very much aware of Steven, watching him closely… but doing his best to make it seem like he wasn't.
She caught his eye, raising an eyebrow, and he pretended to ignore her too.
Sadie heaved out sigh. Whatever. It wouldn't be the first time that Lars had utterly baffled her.
Steven took his food and sat at a seat near the window. Sadie considered talking a bit more with him. He seemed kinda lonely. And she knew her Mom was desperate for more info, but then he pulled out a sketch pad, and she decided to leave him to it. Besides, she needed to restock the display anyway.
(Lars didn't help. He was busy reading something on his phone.)
Sadie lost herself like that for a while, and when the door chimed in the background, she assumed it was just Steven heading off. It was only when she heard the voices that her heart sank.
"So, like, what exactly do we wanna get then?" said the voice of Jenny Pizza.
"Anything. Or everything," said Buck Dewey.
"Everything sounds good to me," said Ronaldo Fryman.
Quickly, Sadie shoved the last of the ice cream sandwiches into the freezer, and spun around.
It wasn't that she disliked the so-called 'Cool Kids'. She barely knew anything about them, besides the fact they were still in high school, they were supposed really cool, and Lars— well—
"Welcome to the Big Donut," he said in monotone, crossing his arms, "what can I get you?"
"I don't know," said Ronaldo, and as always, there was something about his tone that Sadie could not place. "What would you suggest?"
Lars very pointedly looked away from Ronaldo to the other two teens. "I mean, most of it kinda sucks…"
Sadie rolled her eyes.
"That blows, man," said Buck. "I don't want sucky food."
"My jelly donut was pretty good," came a quiet voice from near the window. The Cool Kids turned to Steven.
Jenny snapped and pointed at him. "Hey! You're new in town, right? Mr. Universe's kid?"
The boy's bluish face took on a purple blush. "Is that how… everyone knows me?"
"Pretty much." Buck shoved his hands into his pockets. "But don't worry. I'm sure you'll be able to forge an identity independent of your father."
"Uh… thanks…"
Sadie let out a small sigh of relief as she hurried to her position behind the cash register. She was glad that something had distracted from the weird tension— or mostly had. Lars was grinding his teeth together, and his knuckles were white.
"So the jelly donuts're good?" asked Ronaldo. Mutely, Steven nodded. "Sweet. How's a half-dozen of those sound, guys?"
"Sounds good, Ron," said Jenny. Buck gave a thumbs up.
"Got it!" said Sadie quickly, already loading up a cardboard box.
As the Cool Kids rummaged around for payment, Ronaldo wandered over to Steven's table. Sadie overheard him say, "Cool drawing, man. Is that some sort of chicken-person?"
"Yeah…"
"Did you see one for real?"
"Uh— yeah, I did, but—"
"Oh. Em. Gee. That is awesome. You have definitely gotta tell us more about it sometime." Sadie hurried to shut the box. "We catalogue all the strange and supernatural phenomenon around Beach City. We run a blog all about it, Beach City Explorers! We're always looking for new tips!"
" He runs it really," said Jenny. "I mostly just take pictures and stuff." She waved her phone in demonstration.
"And I help with merch. Here. Have a button." Buck tossed one to Steven, which he just barely caught.
Steven turned it over in his hands, then pinned it on his hoodie. "Hey, wow, cool. Thanks!"
"No problemo," said Buck.
Sadie quickly grabbed the payment from Jenny, pushing the change and donuts towards her. "Thank you for coming to the Big Donut!"
"Seriously," Ronaldo was saying to Steven, "Get in touch!"
"Yeah. We can show you the sights," said Jenny.
"Oh, okay. Thanks!" said Steven, waving back at the teenagers as they departed. The bell rang as they left, leaving a hollow silence in their wake.
Sadie snuck a glance at Lars. He looked, predictably, furious.
"We can show you around too y'know!" Lars blurted out.
Steven blinked at him. "Huh?"
"We can show you around town! Show you everything you need to know!"
"Oh. Well, thanks. What um… what kinda stuff is there?"
"Uh…." Lars stammered.
Sadie stepped in to save him. "Well, there's the arcade and Funland, if you have some extra quarters to spare…"
"Yeah. I've beaten all the games in there," said Lars, "I could definitely help you out. And there's other stuff, too. Wrestling on Saturday nights… The cinema… The park… uh, the library?"
"The library," said Sadie flatly.
"Yes, the library!"
"When have you ever read books?"
"All the time!"
"I've never seen you."
Lars crossed his arms. "Well, there's a lot you don't know about me!"
"A library sounds cool!" said Steven. "I've been wanting to try some new books. How do you get there?"
"Well, it's on… hmm, Budwick Road, isn't it? There's a bus that stops right by it, I think…" said Sadie, scratching her head.
"I can take you!" Lars announced.
Steven smiled. "Wow, really? Thanks!"
"Lars," said Sadie. "We're working! "
He waved a hand. "Oh, come on. Our shift ends in like, half an hour."
Forty six minutes, Sadie thought, but didn't say aloud.
"Um— it's okay— you can always show me some oth—"
"Come on," Lars urged. "Help a guy out, player two."
He gave her the biggest, sweetest eyes, and Sadie felt something inside her melt. And he had a point. It wasn't like she couldn't handle the end of her shift alone, and if he stayed, he'd probably just mooch around anyway. This wouldn't be goofing off— he'd helping a little kid, making sure he didn't get lost, taking him to somewhere educational like a library—
"Oh, okay," Sadie relented. "You two go have fun."
Lars had nearly made it to the bus stop, when a sudden realization struck him:
He didn't know which bus actually went to the library.
He'd used to know. When he'd been a kid, he'd spent a lot of rainy afternoons there, hiding among the tall shelves, breathing in the warm, musty smells. But he'd stopped going there years ago, and the recited bus number had faded from his brain.
Panic flashed through him. What was he supposed to do?! He could Gaggle it, but his phone was so slow, and anyway, he'd told Steven he knew how to get there— he'd look like a total idiot if he had to search it up. Maybe he could just… guess? He could probably remember. But what if they grabbed the wrong bus? He'd look like an even bigger idiot then—
Lars looked up, and was met with a giant mouth filled with sharp, white teeth.
He screamed.
"Woah, woah, it's okay," Steven said, grabbing his arm before he could bolt away down the boardwalk. "This is just Bacon."
Lars stared at the giant wall of pink fur, giant claws and terrible teeth, standing less than a foot away. "Bacon?! That thing's a monster!"
"No. He's a lion," Steven said, and to Lars' horror, he wrapped an arm around the creature's neck.
The creature gave him a long, slow blink, and nuzzled the boy back.
"Is he like— s-some kind of pet or something?"
"No, not a pet. Just a friend. He's in pride with Rose Quartz— she lives on the beach—"
"Rose?" said Lars, calming down a little. Just a little.
"You know her?" asked Steven.
"Uh… sort of…"
Caught up in thought, Lars didn't immediately notice the weird meowing-like exchange the boy and the lion shared. What he did notice was when Steven started climbing up onto the lion's back.
"What are you doing?!"
"Bacon says he can take us to the library." Steven smiled, gave a wave, and said, "Come on up."
Lars stared.
He was being asked. To get on the back. Of a magical pink lion.
No freakin' way.
But if he didn't, he'd look like a huge coward.
Sweat dripping down his neck, Lars awkwardly hauled himself onto the creature's back. Its fur was thick, its body hot, moving beneath him with every breath in and out, and when the lion looked back at them, it was all Lars could do not to grab onto Steven waist and scream.
That's when the lion started running.
Running, Lars could handle. Running was fine. He could just grab onto to the fur and wait until the animal got tired, because it wasn't like the thing could actually bring them to the library right, it was just—
And then Bacon roared.
A giant portal of glimmering lights manifested in the air in front of them. The lion dove in, and everywhere was blues and yellows and pinks, dazzling, dizzying, sparkling everywhere. Bile crept up Lars' throat and held on for dear life.
I should've stayed at work I should've stayed at work I should've stayed at work I should've—
Just like that, it was over. Lars half-scrambled, half-fell off the lion's back, and he had never been so glad to have nice, solid asphalt beneath him.
As Lars managed to get back onto wobbly feet, Steven just chattered on, in a combination of English and cat-noises. "Oh gosh, that was the coolest thing ever wasn't it? Meow-meow, hiss, Bacon says he can bring us back later, mreow, he's just gonna go catch some lizards, so—"
"No, no, it's okay! We can— we can just take the bus back. Tell— tell 'Bacon' to take his time with the lizards or whatever—"
And if Lars still had any suspicions that this kid wasn't just making the whole 'I can talk to this pink lion' stuff up, the fact that he patiently translated this back into meows, and then the cat just bounded away, basically confirmed it.
Even once they'd made it into the relative safety of the library, Lars had trouble focusing. He kept thinking about what an idiot he'd been, jumping on the back of carnivorous beast because a strange twelve-year-old told him to, even if the said twelve-year-old was some super-cool kid of a rockstar. He tried to focus on books, but he didn't have much interest in them, and whenever he noticed something that did look interesting (the baking section caught his eye), he told himself he could just look anything he wanted up online. There were racks filled with DVDs and videogames— Since when do libraries have video-games?— and those looked cool, but Lars didn't even have a valid library card, and he felt weird going to sign up for one. Instead he ended up just covertly checking the right bus to get home on his phone.
After about forty minutes, Steven ended up carrying an entire stack of books to the check-out. Lars stared at it all dubiously. Judging by the covers, they were a bunch of cheesy looking kids' books.
"You read those?" Lars asked, barely able to keep the sneer out of his voice.
Some of it must have slipped through, though, because Steven ducked his head a little. "Not yet. But a— a girl I met said they're really good, so I wanna try them."
"Oh," said Lars, and nothing else, even though he still thought they looked kinda stupid.
The librarian behind the desk lit up when she saw them, however. "Oh, goodness, The Unfamiliar Familiar! These are wonderful. I'm sure you'll love them!" She helped Steven through the process of making a library card (Lars could have gotten one too, it would've been so easy, but— But what, he wasn't sure, he just didn't want to.) Once she'd finished she said, "By the way, we have a contest running you might be interested in."
"What kind of contest?"
"An art competition!" she chirped.
"What?" said Steven. "So cool!"
"Yes. All participants will get their art displayed here in the library, and the prize is a full hard-cover set of the Spirit Morph Saga. Would you like to sign up?"
The kid's eyes were practically sparkling with diamonds when he said, 'Would I?"
"Me too!" Lars quickly added.
"Woah, Lars? You're an artist?"
"Uh…. Yeah. I sure am!"
"Awesome! We get to sign up together! This is gonna be fun!"
That was how Lars Barriga ended up signing his name on the entrance list next to Steven Diamond Universe's, despite not having the slightest clue how to draw, paint or do anything remotely artistic.
He wished the lion would come back to eat him, after all.
oOoOo
Authors' Note: And we're back!
*glances at calander*
Hmm, it's Octoberween. Which means we have a question for y'all... Werewolves or vampires?
