Chapter Two- Ghosts in Charcoal

"But your silver skin soothes my aching curses
and reminds me
That you're worth it."

Axel's leaning over the table that's gleaming after being cleaned. He's soaked by warm rain, running his fingers through his hair in an effort to comfort himself. My coworker Hayner got us each something warm to drink- green tea for me and coffee for Axel- and looked after the restaurant without me having to punch out before the end of my shift.

The rain drops roll from the angles of Axels face and fall abruptly to the table. My stomach lurches as I try to convince myself he's not crying. Axel never cried. Even when we were children, he was the one to comfort me. I'd only seen him cry once and that was the aftermath of a fight he'd gotten into because of me.

His cheeks are flushed but I convince myself it's the romantic lighting that makes him look rosy. He stares at his coffee with an emotion that is so disengaged I can't recognize it and he laughs nervously.

I try to ignore that anything could possibly be going wrong. I sip from the cheap tea and gaze along at everything in the restaurant- the wooden plated walls, the tiny Disney figurines haphazardly placed onto shelves and the play neon graffiti lining the walls. The rain gently slides down the tall windows. Car lights can be seen but they're dim tonight, their lights sloshed out by the reflection of water.

Axel's chapped lips part as he finally grasps the words he's been meaning to say. His eyes are puffy- and it's not the lighting- his cheeks are pink. The badass pyromaniac himself had been crying. It was undeniable.

"Roxas," The ideas of what he's about to say gush through my head at this moment. Did he lose his job? Did someone else die? Is he leaving forever?

Does he love someone?

"What?" I manage, eyebrows furrowed. I'm worried. I'm jealous.

"You're going to need me more than we both thought."

I pause, setting my tea on the table and trying to register what he just said. Before I could ask, he continues.

"Your brother called me," his eyes get glassy again as he lets the words out. "He said you're going to need a lawyer."

I don't realize that this means someone thought I'd killed my own mother. I don't realize that this means I'm going to have to court and repeat all of my thoughts and feelings about death and this loss for the next however long it takes. I don't realize anything.

"What?"

"Roxas," Axel's shoulders sink as he reaches for my hands again, holding them tightly in his own. He's crying for me. He's afraid. I can feel his legs quivering just like his voice underneath the table. "I don't know if I can protect you-"

"Axel, I don't understand." It hasn't hit me.

He lets go of one of my hands to comb his fingers through his disheveled fiery hair. He continues the comforting gesture, hand clutching tighter.

"I know you wouldn't do it. But," He stops, takes a long breath. The metallic whirring of fans and the classic rock radio station are playing in the background. "Rox…"

I think I start laughing but I don't know why or when. I want to do everything but laugh. It rolls out of somewhere I can't recognize, as tears fall down my face and I'm clutching my sides, leaning into the worn leather of the booth. I'm laughing and laughing and laughing and I can't stop. I'm afraid of what's going to happen when I stop. Maybe if I can just laugh like this it'll all evaporate all the problems and the shit that's happening to me. I don't know why I'm so upset when death is a natural part of life but I'm angry and I'm guilty because I know I could have prevented it. I keep thinking about all of the old things I used to do and people I used to know. I think about the cabin and back when dad wasn't in the picture and me and Sora were just kids. Shit like being on sports teams and looking perfect and being able to talk to people didn't matter. You were you, that was what mattered. Mom was happy when I'd give her a picture Namine helped me draw, she was happy when I could read her an elementary story, she was happy when I said anything nice and suddenly along the way I was unable to make her happy anymore and now she never will be.

She'll feel nothing.

She'll never be proud of me. She never was. Who could be? I was completely gay for my best friend, antisocial and probably insane, graduated with a 70 percent average, was left working in a shabby restaurant for the rest of my fucking life, on top of being accused of murder.

My laughter had shifted to tears. I'm wailing without any shame. For the second time, I'm glad we're not busy tonight.

I think Axel's crying too and we just sit there with untouched cold drinks and break for what seems like forever. He gets up and lays one of his easily earned twenties onto the table. He reaches for me with familiar arms and we end up back in his car.

I don't know how long we wept.

"Let's go see her grave." Axel turns to face me after we'd been sitting in his car for a good thirty minutes. We're both silent, numb. It's that moment after crying when you are left hollow and dried up, breathing shallow and eyes heavy.

I nod. Axel wasn't invited to come to the private burial. I wouldn't mind being close to mom right now anyway.

I miss the lake and the cabin.

As Axel revs his car to life I slide off my apron and visor, tossing them into the backseat of the truck. I sink into my seat, staring out the window. The wipers quiver as they inch over the glass, back and forth, back and forth.

I like this about Axel. He knows when to talk and when not to. Although he's comforting, right now I don't feel confident in holding up a conversation. It's just alright sitting next to him.

He knows the exact route. He doesn't have to ask for any directions. It's getting later now, to the point where there's barely any active traffic. Its just rain and black and streetlights. Red, orange, yellow, green twisting and blurring as we roll along the rickety road.

The trees become a black haze, mirror images and nostalgic lights. We turn further away from civilization towards the dirt road that leads to our cabin.

I don't even know who owns it now.

I can feel the ghosts the closer we get to the grave. The ghosts of memories haunt me, closing in and awakening homesickness. I can hear the voices of people I'd tried to make myself forget, can feel the touches of the hands that are covered in the dark, the growing dark.

It's suffocating.

The memories are becoming me and I realize how far apart I am from who I used to be. The person I was in the summer heat and haze is not me now. I am different and so much older and not so naive. I'm not as brave as I promised myself I would be. I kept promising myself that I'd show Axel that song I wrote for him, or that picture I drew for him, or I'd take him to the Usual Spot across the lake and just tell him. Tell him everything I ever felt and let him run away from me if he wanted to. They all did anyway.

But I can't stomach not being with him. He's routine, he's just a piece of me as the sun fits with the moon and light casts shadow. When we don't participate in our immature rituals- like the phone calls and birthday gifts, I feel like a piece of me withers away and I'm growing further still from me, from 'Roxas'- whoever that person is.

It's childish but I gave him this power and I grant it to him every time I let him get closer to me. He's going to be the absolute death of me.

He always has been.

"Axel," I turn to face him as we continue down the charcoal narrow road, "can you be my lawyer?"

He smiles his signature smile. It's one of the things I love about him most. "I don't know if I'm the best choice Rox, I'm not even done with university."

I think about my choices but nothing makes sense other than having Axel on my side. He knows me best. He won't tell me to plead guilty for a lighter sentence or to bullshit anything that isn't true. I know how talented he is and I know he'll fight tooth and nail. I wouldn't trust myself with anyone else. So I tell him.

"I wouldn't trust anyone else." I admit. I thought I'd sound more poetic but I don't. It comes out sappy and feminine and I feel embarrassed.

He pauses for a minute and doesn't say anything. He's calculating, I can almost hear the thoughts as he thinks them. My heart is fluttering and I'm nervous, I feel like I'd asked him to be my date or to accompany me down the aisle. It's another sense of misplaced intimacy.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay." He smiles again but I know this time its fake. He's worried that he won't be able to defend me.

I'm going to try not to worry about it. There's so much more that we have to go through. I'm just a suspect, after all, so far.

Instead I'm going to sink into this empty trail and make believe. I'll ignore the feelings and pretend someone else is driving and that its summer vacation and that I have school in two weeks…

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The water lazily laps at the shore. Its calm as ever, completely undisturbed and tempting. It's graceful with each stand and bow it takes, tumbling over itself and waiting at the shore for the others before getting bored and wandering back in. The moon isn't visible, it's been vacated by low clouds. The rain joins the shore and the wet sand clings to my sneakers like mud, suction smacking loudly in the damp air.

Axel is standing beside the white cross that gleams in the pitch black. He's dragging his fingers along the indents and ridges of the wood; his hair is nearly straight from the rain.

A mournful look washes over his face as he kneels before it and begins to pray. I don't question what he's doing. I just stand back. I don't hear his words, just the warm trickle of water against water. He leans his head against the painted wood, just as lost as I am.

He rises and doesn't bother with his muddy dress pants. Instead he turns back to me and flashes me a failed smile.

It took everything in me not to hug him.

"Remember when we used to come back here every summer?" Axel speaks the words that've been on my mind for hours.

"Remember when we were kids?" I joke, taking a step closer to him. "The summers never used to end."

Axel smiled.

So did I.

The rain soaked us to the very core as we stood in comfortable silence, remembering and forgetting.

My summer vacation is finally over.