~*oOo*~
"And so, we carry the numerator and divide it with the coefficient of x, which, you will understand after putting the figures in your graphing calculator, is equal to…."
The words were empty, blissful static in Alfred's ears until something, or rather someone poked him in the elbow. The young man squawked and very nearly fell out of his seat, much to the amusement of the people in his row. The dark-haired teacher turned around at the titters behind him and scowled when Alfred abruptly sat up in his seat, raised his head and folded his hands, the picture of innocence.
"Mr. Jones, I rather you show off acrobat skills on gym floor. Right now, you're much more likely to impress me if you stay awake for change."
More titters and snorts from his classmates. Alfred immediately turned red and cast Mr. Yao's back a dirty look almost as soon as he resumed to finish the problem on the board. Old jerk, Alfred thought ruefully.
From beside him, Ivan cast him an apologetic, almost pleading look and Alfred just shrugged it off, frustration fading somewhat. His blue eyes wandered to the clock overhead, and the teen silently howled in frustration when he realized there was still forty-one minutes in this awful class to go. Why do they make me pass this class before I graduate? He thought huffily. I'd rather pick up trash beside the road.
Alfred had the uncanny gift of making friends with most people, but the few that he didn't—i.e, Arthur, Ismael, etc—he tended to get on with pretty rottenly. Mr. Yao had been one of those people; even when Alfred turned in his homework with all of the work shown and no pictures of dinosaurs duking it out over Tokyo included and tried not to fidget in class, it seemed the old Math teacher always had a special frown reserved just for him. For students like Kiku and Matthew he could spare a rare approving smile, but never Alfred.
The teen wondered if he'd ever especially rubbed the man the wrong way without even trying to. Maybe Mr. Yao was one of those teachers who could always spare a kind word for the brainiacs but viewed athletes as one big lazy horde of dimwits. He heard something of the effect in the hallway.
Alfred had never done well in any sort of math class; it was easier in grade school when Matthew could explain things just as soon as the teacher said them. But now his brother was in freaking Chemistry class and was now busy gearing up for one of the biggest days of his life, so Alfred was kind of stuck. He was barely holding onto a C/D average, and he was fighting not to slip under with all his might.
Ivan was rather good at math, but he had a difficult time explaining concepts, especially considering he would accidentally slip into Russian a lot, because that was the language in which he'd been taught said concepts. A good number of people laughed at him for that in the hallways, which made Alfred burn with frustration again. People were such jerks.
He leaned back in his seat, nibbling on one of his pencils thoughtfully as he squinted at the Asian teacher's messy handwriting on the board. His brow furrowed, and his blue eyes anxiously scanned over his own, messier scribbles on his notebook. It had taken every ounce of his powers of concentration to hang on this far in the lecture, and somewhere somehow without even realizing it he'd drifted away to doodle pictures of snowmen inside snowglobes.
"Damn," he muttered, almost inaudibly. Mr. Yao turned around again, hands on his hips.
"Got anything you would like to share with the class, Mr. Jones? Or would you like to park a seat outside the principal's office?"
~*oOo*~
"Dude, about the whole 'I can't copy your work because that's dishonest and unheroish,' crap, I feel like taking it back," Alfred complained after the bell finally rang, wearily gathering his things up with the air of an injured soldier. Ivan shook his shoulder playfully.
"Is not too late. I can give you notes I made. Oh," he added, stopping in his tracks around the flood of people exiting, an unhappy glaze appearing in his eyes. "I think I wrote them in Cyrillic because is faster….I am sorry."
Alfred sighed. "No biggie, dude." When Ivan still looked upset, Alfred forced himself to laugh. "C'mon, you think Mr. Yao wants to see my beautiful mug again next year? He'll give me a D and call it a day if I study hard for the final. I just wish it wasn't this week," he added wistfully as they trudged down the hall. "Mattie's game and everything…."
"Da," said Ivan gently, clapping his shoulder. "Is a shame."
Matthew's hockey team had earned themselves a spot in the state semifinals and were playing their next game on Thursday. Alfred knew this was his brother's last chance to make a championship game before his high school career ended, so he spent almost all of his waking hours at the local ice rink with the team. Alfred usually tagged along with his textbook to watch in the stands, but the textbook was almost always invariably ignored.
Alfred was very glad that his brother had managed to make it so far, though it now meant that he had one less person to tutor him. It was a shame, too—Matthew always had a fashion of explaining the most frustrating equations in a way Alfred could at least vaguely understand. Kiku was more than happy to help him study, but college application deadlines were coming up and so the teen spent much of his time in cram school. Matthew's college in Canada required him to do a lot of volunteer work before they would accept him, and so the poor boy juggled with hockey practice and after-school tutoring at the private middle school in town, St. Sebastian's.
"D'you wanna come to my place?" Alfred asked uncertainly as the two headed down to the parking lot where Ivan's car waited. "You know, it's kind of weird. You might as well be calling my folks Mom and Pop, but I don't think I've ever been to your place, or met your sisters. Hey, you said you have a little sis, right? Does she go to St. Sebastian's?"
Alfred had walked on several paces before realizing he had left Ivan behind, turning around to stare quizzically at the Russian, who had suddenly become a statue. "Da," he choked out after a moment or so. "And my big sister goes to community college here in town."
The blond beamed at him, wintry air playing with his ash blond hair. "That's neat! Y'know, if it's not too inconvenient, I'd love to drop over by your place sometime and meet them. Not that your coming over to my place is a problem, though," he added hastily. "Trust me, Mom thinks that you should totally move in, teach the rest of us some manners…"
Ivan still seemed stuck in a daze. "Da," he said at last. "Da, why not? If you like, we can go there now. Natalya won't be there, however," he added hastily. "She has…lots and lots of homework to do."
"Oh, is she in the after school program? I can tell Mattie to look out for her, give her special treatment and stuff!"
"Nyet," Ivan returned quickly, smiling hugely and making Alfred just a smidgen uncomfortable. "No, she is not…she is studious, is all, and likely to be studying hard before she goes out with friends." They reached Ivan's vehicle and as always, the Russian pulled the door open for him and bowed. Alfred shook his head and flushed rosily. "God, ya always gotta treat me like a lady? Thanks though," he added grudgingly on his way in. "And it's good to hear that your sister's made a lotta friends. Bet you were worried when you first came here, huh?"
"Da," Ivan agreed, slamming the door, climbing into the driver's seat and revving the engine. He didn't say a word on the way to his house, preferring to let Alfred's chatter permeate the silence instead.
~*oOo*~
Alfred wasn't certain what he had been expecting—perhaps a Russian-looking house on chicken legs, maybe—but Ivan pulled into a simple enough apartment complex, next to many other gray buildings that all looked the same. Comforting and boring at the same time. Before Alfred had his seatbelt unbuckled, Ivan was out of the car and at his side, hastily opening the door and extending a hand. Alfred suddenly found a great deal of dust on his jeans as he slowly stood up, appearing not to notice.
"So, is your older sister home?"
"She should be very soon."
The two passed the parking lot in relative quiet, though the wind did flutter at some yellowing 'Have You Seen Me?' posters of Arthur Kirkland clumsily stapled to some old telephone poles. It was cold and cloudy out, and Alfred found himself huddling close to Ivan, who walked as if it were midsummer.
They climbed a few flights of stairs and soon enough Ivan was pulling out a key for room 666.
"Dude, that's seriously freaky, isn't it?" Alfred laughed, wondering why his chuckle sounded so high and forced. Ivan grinned at him.
"I guess it is." He opened the door, beckoning Alfred to come in as he took off his shoes. Alfred awkwardly followed suit, feeling strangely nervous when Ivan shut the door behind him.
He supposed he not ought to have worried; for a place marked 666, the room looked and smelled like….well, like other people's home. Nice and neat and normal. As Ivan wandered off to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate, Alfred wandered over to the eggshell-colored walls, admiring some paintings of sunflowers and noticing a few old photographs. He leaned in to take a closer look.
In one of the frames, he saw a kind-faced young girl holding onto the hand of a tiny little boy—Ivan—he realized with some fiendish delight—who had an even smaller girl practically draped around him, giving the camera a very dark look. He moved on to some more recent-looking photographs; plenty of pictures of the kind-faced girl and Ivan, but almost none of the dark-eyed girl who'd glowered at the camera, clinging to Ivan as if her life depended on it.
"What do you think?"
Alfred started and turned; Ivan was standing behind him with his custom small smile, although it looked like his violet eyes were calculating him somehow. Alfred blinked and took one of the steaming mugs Ivan was holding out to him, blowing on it appreciatively.
"Nice place. Did your sister paint all those?" He took a sip of his chocolate and nearly groaned with pleasure—mixed with cinnamon, perfect. Ivan stared into the depths of his own drink, fingers clumsily fumbling with the handle.
"Oh, well, um, I did." Ivan looked back up at him, shy, abashed.
"Seriously?" Alfred gawked at him, found no hint that he was lying, and simply lit up like a Christmas tree. "Dude, you can freaking paint! That's so cool, why didn't you tell me you could do that before? You're an artist!"
"Oh, well…..just a hobby…." Ivan shifted, flushed with praise, rocking back and forth on his feet Alfred continued to chatter on for a few moments, asking Ivan if he had any more pieces to show him. When Ivan eagerly lumbered off to get his album, Alfred sank down onto the leather sofa in the living room and waited, staring up at the photos. Still no picture of what could pass as a Mom or Dad…maybe they both died, or were both assholes? Alfred definitely didn't want to bring it up, as it might be a touchy subject with Ivan.
His sister probably had legal guardianship of both him and his little sister—probably why they were able to live by themselves. They seemed to be doing just fine.
Something nudged Alfred's foot, and the teen looked down in surprise. An incredibly furry, dark brown cat was sniffing curiously at his pant leg, giving it an experimental headbutt and nuzzling it. Surprised, Alfred nonetheless chuckled and started to scratch the cat behind the ears. A loud, motor-like sound filled the room and he drew back in surprise, wondering where the sound was coming from only to discover that the rumbling noise was coming from the appreciative cat, headbutting Alfred's hand for more attention.
"Awww, you're such a cute….thing!" Alfred scooped up the creature, wondering if something so large could be a feline. Maybe it was a Russian dog or something? Nope, judging from the ears it was just a big, fat, happy cat with a flat nose.
Ivan laughed as he returned, clutching his book to his chest. "Oh, that's just Vodka. We do not get many visitors, so he is pleased, I think, to make new friend."
"Awww, Franklin would just loooveee you!" Alfred cooed, playfully nuzzling the cat's head underneath his chin. "Gotta make a catdate of it sometime…are you really the little guy who played in the mud and then got all crabby when your poor master tried to give you a bath?"
"Da," said Ivan quickly. "We lived on the ground floor then, and we used to be able to let Vodka go out, but since is cheaper to live up a few flights, he's become an indoor cat."
Vodka curled up in Alfred's lap and continued to purr as Ivan flicked through the many pictures he'd painted or sketched, though some were chalk pieces. Alfred was dazzled by most if not all of them—his artistic ability only extended so far as stick people, whereas Ivan was making sketches that might have made Van Gogh green with envy. "You definitely like to draw sunflowers a lot, huh big guy?"
"Beautiful," said Ivan happily. "Nothing like that in Russia. No lovely sunflowers." He tucked a strand of hair behind Alfred's ear and smiled serenely. "So happy to be here now, where they are everywhere. Though," he added sweetly, "Some are just….lovelier than others, da?"
Alfred swallowed, his Adam's Apple bobbing, nerves dancing like frantic butterflies scattering this way and that in his stomach. Ivan had been sitting relatively close to him when they first started going through the sketchbook, but now he was pressed up against Alfred, looking at him.
The room was now feeling unbearably hot, though something cold danced up his spine, ice replacing bone as Ivan's hand wandered over from the book pages to Alfred's face, still gloved hands ghosting over his cheekbone with the tenderest of touches. Breathing heavily, Alfred tried to look away, but felt his gaze being tugged back to Ivan, whose expression had not changed. Still keen, still intense. Still…
….hungry. Almost greedy.
Alfred squirmed in his seat, his heartbeat slowly advancing and the organ trembling as Ivan let out a sigh and closed his eyes, negating the gravitational force of that intense purple gaze. The Russian breathed in, his hand wandering from Alfred's face and burying itself into Alfred's blonde hair, fingertips slowly rubbing little circles on his scalp. The other hand went to cup Alfred's cheek, the fingers splaying across his skin and rubbing the flesh affectionately.
Incredibly uncomfortable, mouth dry, feeling heat blossoming from the depths of his stomach and spreading generously throughout his body, Alfred made to clear his throat, but no sound would come out. After a moment, his brain and vocal cords finally reconnected, and he heard a small, pale voice answer him.
"Ivan, I—"
Somewhere, the two heard the door slam, and a cheerful, foreign-sounding voice call out, "Vanya, I'm home!"
The two young men turned their heads; Vodka leapt off Alfred's lap and zipped towards the source. A very pretty, buxom young woman entered the room, smiling broadly down at the cat who had come to greet her.
"Hello, Vodka! Oh Vanya, sorry I'm so late, the professor vanted to talk vith me before I left for the grocery story…and there was a line because they say there vill be a blizzard and the roads vill be closed…." At last the silver-haired woman looked up, and one of the brown shopping bags tumbled out of her arms, a few cans with Cyrillic labels rolling out and away. Vodka scurried after one that rolled underneath the coffee table and proceeded to bat at it.
Ivan did not look happy. He was staring at his sister with an expression of grave disappointment—perhaps even anger. Alfred dared a glance at him and immediately stood up to collect the fallen groceries. "Um, hey, Ivan's sister. It's nice to meet you."
"Sister," Ivan said stiffly. "This is Alfred. Boy I have been telling you about? For many months?"
For a moment the short-haired woman just stared at him, her mouth a tiny 'o.' Then, her powder blue eyes filled up with tears. Alfred had been just about to hand her the cans he'd scooped up, but he almost immediately dropped them again. "Whoa! I'm s-sorry!" he stammered, dumping the cans into a stray bag. "I…I didn't meant to offend…"
The woman looked at him through her tears, and then immediately seized Alfred by the shoulders and crushed him to her chest. Considering just how prominent it was, this was no small deal; Alfred turned a scarlet, flailing mess as the young woman happily began to babble something in Russian, and then stopped and corrected herself, blushing. Ivan cleared his throat rather sharply, and the woman let a very dazed Alfred go, still sniffling and wiping her eyes considerably.
"Oh, is so very nice to meet you! Ivan has said so much about you but he has had no friends come to visit since we moved here, so I have been very worried but now I'm happy because you are such good friend to Vanya!"
"Katyusha, calm down," Ivan muttered, popping out of nowhere from behind Alfred and making the teen produce a squawk as he draped an arm around him. "You will drown place in tears sooner or later."
"Da, da, but they are of joy! I'm so pleased!"
"U-um, very nice t-to meet you too…." He noticed some silver, melting flakes in her hair and his embarrassment immediately turned to confusion. "Hey, is it..."
He hurried to the nearby window and crowed in pleasure; thick, white flakes were drifting outside. "Hell yeah, baby! First snow of the season!"
Warm fingers suddenly wrapped around his hand and Alfred glanced up in surprise to find Ivan standing there beside him. He forced out a laugh and tried to tug his hand away, but Ivan clung on like a persistent two year old, smiling. Confused and somewhat embarrassed, Alfred just stared out the window. The guy really could be a little creepy at times.
Vodka plodded over to the two and Alfred bent to scratch his ears, one of his hands still arrested in Ivan's. Katyusha was cheerily talking to them both about the weather report. "—nothing like how it was back home, but am glad I came back vhen I did…."
"Maybe we'll get a ton of snow and school'll be canceled for the next few days," Alfred said hopefully, deciding to avoid looking up at Ivan directly.
"Da. But it does not seem likely. You're much more likely to get snowed in tonight and have to stay here." Ivan sounded much too happy with the prospect.
Alfred and Katyusha laughed; his was forced, Katyusha's was genuine. "Oh, Vanya, is just a little flurry. Nothing like that big pile ve got back home when you vere small…remember when ve vere snowed in house for two days?"
"Don't care how much we get, so long as there's enough to make a snowman and not enough to postpone Mattie's game," Alfred said, seizing his chance and sidestepping away when Ivan went to pick up Vodka. "Though havin' an ice hockey game canceled just cause of some cold weather seems like the dumbest thing ever—Mattie'd have a stroke. Uh, need some help putting those away, Katyusha?"
~*oOo*~
Once Alfred had very meticulously helped put the groceries away—he made sure to handle every item one at a time, with both hands, which might have been a waste of effort considering Ivan liked to scoop him up so that he could put cans on high shelves—he immediately wanted to race outside. Ivan didn't seem to understand Alfred's enthusiasm, but he put on his large Ushanka and Alfred scrabbled for his shoes and coat. But just as Alfred's hand wrapped around the door, Ivan pulled him back and pulled furry mitts over the surprised teen's hands, as well as wrapped the old beige scarf he wore almost every day round Alfred's neck.
"Careful, Солнышко. You will catch cold." The rabbit fur felt amazingly soft and pleasant against Alfred's hands, like fuzzy warm silk.
"Uh…thanks, man," Alfred returned, smiling his most charming grin as Ivan gave him one of his strange, large, lopsided smiles. It was weird looking, but undeniably endearing. The two hurried out the door and down the steps, Alfred pausing to lean his head back and stick out his tongue, catching a stray flake. "Mmm, the first snow tastes the best. By January or February everyone's just freaking sick of 'em, so they don't taste so good then."
"There is a difference?"
"Course there is." Alfred grinned, shuffling slightly when Ivan returned it again, stepping onto the same step Alfred was standing on. As much of a bastard he felt for thinking it, he really wished he were enjoying this moment with Kiku, who hated the cold and bundled up until he was a walking puffball. Ivan was a puffball, but an entirely different kind. "Let's go in the parking lot and run around like idiots!"
"Why?"
"Coz who else is gonna do it?"
Ivan's eyes twinkled and he hastened to follow his American friend as he raced down the steps, laughing. "But what about your studying?"
"It's okay! That can wait—the snow won't!"
In all honesty, he wasn't sure how he felt about sitting on that sofa with Ivan again, even if Katyusha were nearby.
~*oOo*~
Three hours later, snow was still falling, although the more appropriate term by now might have been hurtling. Flushed with exertion and with cold, Alfred had wanted to go home, but Ivan had offered to at least try to teach him some equations that would likely appear on the test. After an hour or so of "studying" (it had turned into a game of tic-tac-toe along the way), Katyusha had graciously asked Alfred to stay for dinner. Feeling it rude to say no, Alfred reluctantly agreed and sent his brother and mother a quick text message. Now the three were gathered at the table, with Vodka sleeping on Alfred's lap.
Alfred stirred around the contents of his borscht, blowing and taking a bite, humming appreciatively. He'd never really liked beets or cabbage, but it was nice to eat something hot, especially considering he had just started sneezing every three minutes. "Aa-choo!"
"Bless you!" Katyusha chimed again as Ivan handed Alfred a tissue. "I hope you aren't coming down with a cold."
Sniffing, Alfred nonetheless grinned at her. "Nah. Colds are for wimps and people who can't outrun one. I'm good."
Katyusha giggled and bent over her food before her eyes widened. "Oh! Vanya, the hospital called today," she said gently, turning to her younger brother who was sitting very close to Alfred. "They will be sending along your things shortly. Isn't that nice?"
Ivan's spoon clattered to his bowl. All the color drained out of Katyusha's sweet and hopeful face, and Alfred gave Ivan a puzzled look. "Hospital?"
"I had appendicitis back in Russia," Ivan confessed. Alfred winced in sympathy. His father had had that too. "Just a few weeks before the two of us were set to leave, I started getting bad stomachache. Went to physical and the doctor realized I needed surgery very fast. Accidentally left a few of my personal things in hospital room while I recovered, so now hospital is mailing them to States."
"Most troublesome," added Katyusha, looking strangely relieved as Ivan turned back to his food. Alfred turned to Ivan. "Dude! You must have a really cool scar! Can I see it sometime?"
Silence. Katyusha abruptly stood up, announced she needed to use the lavatory, and all but ran out of the room. Alfred blinked, bewildered and hurt. "Oh, no. Did I do something wrong?"
"Nyet," Ivan reassured him, squeezing his arm. "She is just like that—very squeamish. But I hope you don't mind if I do not show you, Alfredka." An incredibly unhappy haze settled over him, and Alfred could almost feel the toxic waves rushing off of him, polluting the prior peace. Vodka must have sensed it too, for he rubbed his chin anxiously against Alfred's hand, wanting to be petted again. "I do not…want to show anyone my stomach. It is ugly and the scar is ugly."
Alfred sighed. "Vanya, nothing about you is ugly. Don't let Arthur or any other jackass tell you otherwise. You're a stud."
Ivan cast him a grateful, glowing look, and after awhile Katyusha dared to enter the kitchen again, her good mood returned. Alfred vaguely wondered why Ivan had said 'two of us' instead of 'three of us' when he had talked of leaving Russia with his family, but he supposed Ivan just misspoke and didn't pay much attention to it.
~*oOo*~
"What time is Natalya coming back?" Alfred asked while he and the two Braginski washed the dishes. He peered out the window—it was getting very dark outside and snow was still falling. "Hope she's not walkin' home from St. S…is she gonna be okay?"
Katyusha cast him a surprised look. "O-oh," she said mildly, her hands quivering just a little bit around the plate she held. Ivan grabbed it from midair just as it slipped out of her fingertips. "Vell, you see dear, little Natalya is—"
"—staying at her girlfriend's house," Ivan finished, and Katyusha immediately bent her head and seized a wet bowl from the stack, drying it immaculately. "Isn't that right, Katyusha? She left us a note this morning. Slumber party."
Katyusha blinked, and then nodded. "O-oh! Yes, of course. I had forgotten. Is shame you vill not meet her today, Alfred, dear. You vould like her very much."
"I'll ask Mattie to say hey to her if he sees her at St. S," Alfred said good-naturedly, finishing the last dish. "Hey Iv, wanna put the TV on before we study some more?"
"Da," Ivan agreed happily. "Go wait in den. I will be there with snacks in moment." Nodding gratefully, Alfred wandered off, picking up his phone on the way. He saw he had a text message from Mattie, and immediately opened it.
MapleMarvelMattie: Hey bro, you need me to pick you up?
Sinking onto the couch next to his forgotten Math notes, Alfred quickly responded.
HeroThyNameIsAlfred: Thx, but u just got done with practice. You're probably pretty beat, aren't u? ;)
MapleMarvelMattie: How'd you know? :-p
HeroThyNameIsAlfred: I know everything. :D
MapleMarvelMattie: Modesty thy name isn't Alfred.
HeroThyNameIsAlfred: Oh ha, ha, ha. Met Ivan's big sister Katyusha. And dude, I mean big sister. U guys would be all over her.
MapleMarvelMattie: On a scale to one to ten?
HeroThyNameIsAlfred: Eleven Hundred.
MapleMarvelMattie: O.O Wow.
HeroThyNameIsAlfred: I know, right? :D Their little sis is named Natalya Braginski…look out for her when u head off to St. S tomorrow b4 practice. Wonder what she's like…ready to go home. Can't believe I'm sayin it but I hope it stops snowing soon
MapleMarvelMattie: Tired of looking at gorgeous girls and wanting it to stop snowing? Who are you and what have you done with my brother?
HeroThyNameIsAlfred: Ha. Be a comedian. Mattie, something weird is going on here.
MapleMarvelMattie: Why, what do you mean?
HeroThyNameIsAlfred: Well, u see
Alfred accidentally hit the send button too early. Sighing, he made to finish the sentence, but there was a strange sound coming from the kitchen. Curious, he got up and went to see what the ruckus was all about. He peeked around the corner, tipping back when he saw what looked like Ivan and Katyusha arguing. Well, Ivan looked mad, maybe a little more upset than anything else. Katyusha looked quite frankly like she was about to burst into tears or start begging for mercy.
Ivan was muttering something, and Alfred could only pick up bits and pieces of the conversation.
"Told you—" A stream of Russian words Alfred could not understand. "—to say. I do not want him to think that we are crazy!"
"Da, Vanya," Katyusha croaked, rubbing at her eyes. She said something in Russian, and then again in English. "I have been vaiting for you to make a friend for so long. You seem so lonely, and this will be good for you, I know. I will be sure to remember next time. Простите. Простите. It will be fine. All will be fine, just fine, all is fine, fine, fine…."
Ivan shook his head and stooped to get a bowl from the cabinet. Alfred slowly drew away and trooped back to the living room, his stomach in knots. Ivan was probably upset with Katyusha for running out of the room earlier…Alfred fervently wished Ivan could make some more friends. Then he might chill the hell out and stop haranguing his sister, who seemed so nice.
At the same time, Alfred didn't feel like he could really yell at Ivan either, who was just anxious about appearing normal, like every other teenager.
The idea that he was Ivan's only friend didn't make Alfred feel particularly special. Actually, it just made him feel kind of uncomfortable…and he wanted to leave.
He glanced down at his phone again. Mattie had responded.
MapleMarvelMattie: See what? Everything okay?
HeroThyNameIsAlfred: I guess. I feel…weird, here. Ivan's really clingy and I'm getting the idea I'm the only friend he's got. I don't know what to do.
MapleMarvelMattie: Uh-oh. Are you being nice, Alfred? :(
HeroThyNameIsAlfred: Duh, yeah! I'm not doing anything wrong, here—Ivan's just kinda bugging me out a little! He's really considerate and stuff, but it's kinda overkill.
MapleMarvelMattie: Mom says to suck it up and be nice. Not everyone's Mister Popular, you realize.
HeroThyNameIsAlfred: Tattletale. But thx 4 acknowledging me as MP. ;D I'm gonna tell Iv I gotta cut out early…studying n stuff
MapleMarvelMattie: Uh…actually Alfred, Mom wanted to say something about that….
HeroThyNameIsAlfred: What?
MapleMarvelMattie: :/ Have you looked out the window?
Alfred glanced out and immediately went white, sneezing again.
HeroThyNameIsAlfred: Oh shit.
MapleMarvelMattie: I think, my brother, you are screwed.
HeroThyNameIsAlfred: Shut the hell up.
~*oOo*~
The weather forecast looked grim: In a matter of hours the world had turned from winter wonderland to winter wasteland.
"Iv, are you positive we can't drive out there?" Alfred pleaded, his lower lip trembling in spite of himself. "The salt trucks are probably gonna be out soon and stuff…."
"Not till at least midnight," Ivan reminded him cheerily, his blue-violet eyes kind, insistent. "And by then you will be exhausted, which means you will take another nap in class, which means Mr. Yao will yell at you again. You can borrow some of my clothes—I do not mind. I am sure we have a spare toothbrush lying around, too."
Alfred just stared at him, dismayed. One of Ivan's T-shirts was probably going to be a dress on him, and he'd probably have to wrap a belt around a pair of pajamas several times so that they didn't fall off.
Katyusha took his hand, squeezing it within her own. "Please stay," the woman pleaded. "If ve or your siblings cannot drive, you must valk, and you could get lost in such awful veather." Her eyes welled up, and Alfred turned his eyes to the ceiling, wondering why God forsook him.
Oh, what was he supposed to do with that?
Ivan beamed at him. "Then it is settled," he said happily, putting both hands on Alfred's shoulders. "You will stay at our home tonight."
Alfred resisted the urge to ask to borrow a lantern and some table salt with some difficulty.
~*oOo*~
"Aa-choo!"
As Ivan was making his colossal bed, he threw his best friend a surprised look. "You are sick," he said simply. It was a statement, not a question.
Alfred just shrugged in resignation, irritated and exhausted. He'd just taken a hot shower, which had felt nice, but now he was shivering again, even with Ivan's enormous clothes on him. They'd been even bigger than the two boys had anticipated, and the sleeves kept falling past his hands and the pant legs went way past his feet, making Alfred look as though he'd had both hands and feet amputated.
Ivan shook his head and chuckled, his strange face filling up with warmth.
"Vy ocharovatelny."
"Uh, same to you, man." He shifted from foot to foot in the chilly room as Ivan finished making the bed, patting the pillows welcomingly. "You know, I really don't mind sleeping on the sofa…"
"Hush," Ivan said fondly. "You are my guest. Is no problem. I hope you will be comfortable." He stepped forward and embraced Alfred, seemingly unaware of the small shiver that the shorter felt race through his body. Face pressed against Ivan's shoulder, Alfred inhaled the scent of black tea and rust as Ivan pressed his face against the crown of Alfred's head for the briefest of seconds before stepping away. "Goodnight, Alfredka."
And with that, Ivan left the room, leaving Alfred alone by the enormous bed. Bemused, Alfred slowly climbed into it, feeling like a midget underneath the thick, heavy quilt that seemed to be the size of a circus tent. He pressed his face against Ivan's pillow and sighed, fading to sleep with the scent of soap and vanilla following him into his dreams, the wind moaning and howling outside.
Later that night, Alfred woke, to the sound of Vodka purring next to him and to the now freezing air ghosting over his cold nose. He sneezed and shuffled down into the warmth of the blankets, which seemed a lot more prominent than they'd been when he went to sleep.
A gasp and Alfred's sleepy blue eyes peered upward, and his heart jumped in his throat when he saw a dark shadow stagger back in the darkness, wringing its hands. "Al-Alfredka?" it stammered. "Are you alright?"
Alfred scrunched his face up and propped himself up on one elbow. "Y-yeah." He blindly reached out for the nearby lamp and frowned when the light wouldn't flood into the room again. "Dude, I think there's something wrong with your lamp."
"Da. That is why I came in here. The electricity has gone out all over town. Just checked battery radio."
Alfred stared at Ivan, or at the murky blob in front of him he was pretty sure was Ivan.
"Are you kidding me?" he asked, dumbfounded, pulling the heavy piles of cloth Ivan had stacked on him towards him. "Does that mean we're gonna freeze to death in here?"
A soft laugh. "Nyet. Of course not. We will be fine; I just wanted to make sure you were feeling alright. Are you warm enough?"
Alfred tried to move his legs; it was difficult, considering just how many layers Ivan had spread on him to isolate him from the cold. What did the guy do, pull his entire wardrobe over him with every spare blanket in the house? "Uh…yeah. How about you, big guy?"
"Oh, I'm fine. Good night, Солнышко."
"Wait," Alfred blurted out, reaching out in the dark, finding Ivan's shirt. It had just occurred to him that while the couch was perfectly long enough for him, Ivan's head and feet were most likely dangling off the edges. He felt guilty. "Stay here."
A muted gasp. "You do not need to…I mean, well, if you want me to….."
Alfred huffed. "Plenty of room. Get in the damn bed, Ivan. It'll be warmer with the two of us, anyway."
He thought he might have heard Ivan clap his hands, but could not be sure; a second later Ivan was awkwardly squeezing beside him under the blankets, pressing himself right against Alfred's back, incredibly solid. Vodka lay atop them both, perfectly comfortable, still purring contently.
Alfred shifted, meaning to move away but upon feeling Ivan's cold skin settled against it, feeling Ivan's arms snake around him. He yawned, still half asleep, too tired to care.
"G'night," he muttered sleepily, drifting off again.
He thought he heard Ivan say something too, and something warm brushed against his face, but he was already asleep.
Hours later, awake or asleep he could not tell, Alfred felt something was pressing softly into his shoulder muscles, massaging soothingly until Alfred relaxed fully back against the solid warmth gripping him from behind. As if encouraged, a pair of velvety lips fell on his cheek, trailing slowly from his cheek to his jugular, settling into the hollow at his throat, whispering something. Alfred shifted and tilted his head back, unconsciously giving the perpetuator better access.
The hands kept rubbing him, caressing his back while the lips pressed against his skin, leaving a series of fluttery kisses all over his skin, a hint of tongue trailing across it. One hand wrapped around Alfred's waist while the other stole its way up his borrowed shirt, searching for more delicate skin.
A hint of cold air made his skin erupt in goosebumps, but it was stifled almost immediately, as if a fleece had been draped around him. Then, the fingers found the pebbled skin, and started teasing, twitching and pulling and caressing until Alfred was gasping softly, squirming and shifting under the blankets as warmth steadily began to grow in his pelvic area. A hot tongue languidly touched one of his nipples, and Alfred let out a keening sound he had not known he was capable of producing. He pressed upward, and the hot mouth suckled the skin, moving on to treat the neglected one the same way. Alfred moaned, half out confusion and half out of arousal as his member began to harden beneath his pants, the warmth pooling into an insistent, needy twitch.
The hands would not stop touching him, always exploring and caressing and worshipping. A hot gasp, and Alfred found himself pressed against something unmistakably hard as the hands wandered lower, lower, lower into his vital regions. He stirred and tried to tug the appendages away, but they dug into his pants and found his arousal, large fingers wrapping themselves around it and pulling slightly.
Alfred started twitching madly back and forth under the blankets, groaning and thrusting into the touch as he felt pre-cum start to trickle down his length. The hands increased their ministrations, stroking until Alfred was uncomfortably hard and gasping in the dark, his arousal now sticking up proudly, quivering with need until a tongue draped itself around it, languidly stroking a vein that was pulsing just as fast as his heart—
And Alfred started, his blue eyes flying open, his heart pounding itself painfully against its confines. He tentatively touched himself and cringed, swearing in the dark. 'Oh God, what am I gonna tell Ivan?'
The Russian lay against him, arms still enfolded around his torso, thankfully not touching….well, what Alfred really, really didn't want anyone touching right now. He awkwardly turned to look at him in the dark—and nearly chuckled; Ivan looked like a sleeping bear under the furry blankets, large and breathing deep. He almost thought he could see a hint of a smile on his face.
Alfred tried to pull himself free so that he could clean himself off, but even in sleep Ivan's grip was like steel, and so after several vigorous attempts grumpily settled back into the warm cocoon of blankets. Well, at least he hadn't got the blanket or—god forbid—Ivan wet. Maybe he wouldn't even notice in the morning.
Tough luck, dumbass.
Closing his eyes for the last time, Alfred waited in the dark until he fell into an uneasy slumber. Unbeknowst to him, someone else also waited, a pair of purple eyes flying open when Alfred started breathing deeply again, a hand caressing his face lovingly.
~*oOo*~
The next morning, the two boys reluctantly got out of bed at 6. If Ivan noticed anything he chose not to remark, and so Alfred was grateful. Although the Russian offered to lend him new clothes, Alfred just pulled on his things from yesterday, rathering to just look like a lazy slob rather than a blob of fabric.
After a quick shower, Alfred noticed that Ivan had indeed piled his entire wardrobe on him last night, including a few stray dish towels and rags. He tried not to think about it too much.
A hearty few inches or so of snow had fallen outside, but nothing that would close the schools (Alfred wasn't certain if he were disappointed or relieved about that) and the salt trucks had come in the night and cleared the roads. The dangerous winds had also died down, so the outside world looked like it had been delicately frosted with powdered sugar.
Katyusha made oatmeal for the three of them before she hurtled out the door for her classes and part-time job (someone needed to introduce this household to Captain Awesome cereal) and Ivan and Alfred followed after for school, the latter having a small sniffle. When they joined their friends, Alfred laughed uproariously about his little adventure, now that it was over and he had an eager and amused audience. One person, however, didn't look particularly happy.
"You slept over at Ivan-kun's house?" Kiku asked again while he and Alfred were at study hall. Ivan had gone off to get a drink of water.
Alfred shrugged, coughed and smiled nervously. "Uh, yeah. Katyusha was real sweet. I got the feeling that I was, uh, wanted at the house."
Kiku frowned, and Alfred marveled about the fact that he looked like a distraught baby panda. "Did you get any studying done?"
"Uh….not really." Alfred grinned sheepishly as Kiku buried his face in his hands. "Look, Kiku, I'm really sorry—"
"Alfred, you won't be able to graduate if you don't pass this class!" Kiku winced as a librarian shushed them, "Don't apologize to me. You'll have to come over to my place tonight and do some cramming, else I think you will be in bad trouble."
Alfred bit the inside of his lip. He really, really didn't want to admit it but Kiku certainly had a valid point. The problems Mr. Yao had assigned him looked like complete gibberish! His face fell, and Kiku said tentatively, "Mother and Father will not be too displeased with me if I miss one cram session. I think I should put my focus on studying for my school exams now, so you can come over today after school and we will both study hard together. No distractions. I will make you study sheet."
A hint of hope entered Alfred's eye. "Really, buddy? You mean it?"
"Of course."
Alfred threw himself at his childhood best friend with a yelp of glee, and Kiku immediately squawked, looking at a loss. Thrashing around helplessly, his brown eyes wandered over to the library door, where Ivan was standing, frozen.
It was a stupid, immature thing to do, but Kiku was a highly competitive person and cast him a small smirk. Ivan smiled back pleasantly, though there was a now-crushed cranberry juice bottle in his hand drip-drip-dripping on the floor.
~*oOo*~
Alfred had asked Kiku if Ivan could tag along, but the Asian seemed to forget his normal excellent manners, and hotly replied that his parents wouldn't want Ivan to stay over, considering they didn't know him very well. They studied for perhaps three and a half hours, and eventually got bored and started racing each other on Mario Wii. Alfred had forgotten just how much fun he'd had with Kiku—so much of his time was now devoted to the shy and awkward Ivan.
When he came home, still sneezing, there was a box of chocolate with his name on it waiting on the doorstep, alongside a note to get better soon.
The next day, the day before the exam and the day of Matthew's game, Alfred, Ivan, and Kiku were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder at the ice rink, despite the fact that there was still plenty of room on the stands. Flummoxed, Alfred tried to get more comfortable, but he only ended up elbowing both Kiku and Ivan, who were sandwiched between him. "Geez, guys, what the hell's with you? Give a guy some breathing room."
"Hai, Ivan-kun," said Kiku politely. "You are suffocating Alfred. Why don't you find a seat where you can stretch your ridiculously long legs?"
Ivan's laugh was positively dripping with honey, his purple-blue eyes bright. "Oh, I think I am fine, thank you for asking, Kiku. Perhaps you will want to get seat up front, where tiny people at least pretend they can see some of action."
Kiku smiled back and Alfred shuddered, despite the fact that he was wearing a long sports jacket and a pair of mittens. It was fucking freezing in here, and Alfred didn't think the cold emanated from the arena. Kiku awkwardly turned to him, looking concerned.
"Are you sure you should be here? We studied hard but test is tomorrow." Alfred didn't even notice; when Matthew and the others skated out onto the rink, the teen flew up, whooping and clapping his hands with the rest of the home fans. It took several minutes before Kiku could tug him back down. "I know how important this is to you, Alfred-san, but—"
Alfred rolled his eyes. "Relax, dude," he remarked, clapping again when Matthew sent a practice shot hurtling away from the goal back to enemy territory. "The game ends at about six, if it doesn't go into overtime, which it probably won't, cause we kick ass. Mattie and his buds will go out to celebrate, and I'll just have to go home early and hit the books." He deflated somewhat. "But at least I still get to watch the game."
But in the second inning, disaster struck. The home team was in the lead, but one of the opposing players skated over to scream at Mattie at his post by the goal. Alfred's twin tensed as the player started cursing him out, and it was only by Ivan and Kiku's combined effort that they were able to keep Alfred from climbing over the plexiglass and into the arena. "Say that one more time, you son of a bitch, say it again!"
Apparently the teen thought that actions spoke louder than words, because he brought his stick up high in the hair and struck Matthew upside the face before the boy could land in a good counterblow, normally superb reflexes failing with fatigue. The referee's whistle sounded and the irate man skated over, but the opposing player used his window of opportunity to rip off Mattie's mask and send the boy facedown on the ice with a sickening crack.
Mrs. Jones, who was sitting behind the three, nearly fainted.
~*oOo*~
In hindsight, Alfred wished that he had brought his skates; it would have made it so much easier to attack the creep instead of flailing on the ice in a fit of helpless rage. But Ivan walked across the arena if it were practically wood to promise the rogue player he could expect a visit from him very soon. Fat lot of good that did anyone, whatever it meant.
Each of Matthew's arms were thrown around the shoulder of two of his teammates as they carefully skated him to the sidelines where his family could pull off his gear; there was an ample amount of blood streaming down his remarkably swollen face, which had dark bruises blossoming across it. Much to Alfred's horror, the dazed teen was missing a few teeth.
They drove to the hospital without much preamble, and when Alfred was done with his strangled mix of obscenities, he started tearing up, and Ivan started wiping his tears, murmuring things in Russian while Kiku's hands tentatively brushed against Alfred's shoulders.
Ironically enough, Alfred seemed to be getting a whole lot more attention than Matthew, whose head was in Francis' lap.
When they got to the Emergency Room, there was some debate over whether or not Matthew qualified as a genuine "emergency" (Alfred would had loved to have had a bat on him so that he could show the pinko staff what a real emergency looked like), but after awhile they finally let him in, and Alfred, family, and friends were forced to sit and watch and wait. Alfred's textbook lay in his backpack, completely forgotten.
Hours later, Matthew was wheeled out, still looking dazed, certainly looking swollen, but he gave his loved ones a thumbs-up and a grin with missing teeth. He'd needed several stitches, had a nasty lump on his head, plenty of bruises, and three missing molars but he was okay.
"For God's sake, Alfred, stop crying," Mattie croaked impatiently after awhile. "Dude, and you call me a blubberface. At least we won!" he added, brightening considerably. "Not the way I'd like to win, but we were ahead anyway, so bygones."
"And you call ME an idiot."
By the time everyone started packing up to go home, the sun had risen and Alfred had dark shadows underneath his eyes while he pushed his brother's wheelchair out of the hospital, Matthew, Ismael, Ivan, and Kiku flanking him. All of a sudden, Alfred stopped dead.
"Aw, crap," Alfred croaked. "I forgot to study."
"Pretend to be sick," Ivan offered. "You are exhausted."
Alfred wearily shook his head.
"No. Only one day to take it."
~*oOo*~
He failed. Mr. Yao was one of those teachers who gave students alternating tests, so there was no chance of Ivan slipping answers (Test B) to Alfred (Test A) even if the teen wanted to cheat. To say the least, the test went horribly and after class Alfred went to the teacher to plead his case.
"Please, Mr. Yao," Alfred begged, hating how his voice cracked. "My brother was in an accident last night, and I was with him in the ER, you can ask my parents, I can bring in a note—"
"Alfred." The man interrupted. "I believe you. And I am sorry." He certainly didn't sound very sorry. "But it wouldn't be fair to the other students if I gave you another opportunity to take exam."
"Please." Alfred choked out. "I don't want to repeat senior year. I'm not a dumbass. I swear."
Mr. Yao shrugged and sighed. "Good day to you, Mr. Jones. See you next year."
~*oOo*~
When he staggered away, he was waiting. Ivan's hopeful immediately turned to one of pain.
"Alfredka…"
His arms were around him in an instant, and Alfred broke down, ashamed and exhausted and furious and hopeless.
"It will be alright," Ivan soothed, hugging him close. "Do not be the crying, Alfredka, is not end of world. Do not be sad."
At that, Alfred's shakes improved to sobs, and the Russian's brow creased to distress.
"Why? He knows how hard I've worked," Alfred wept, his voice cracking. "God, I'm such an idiot…such a fucking idiot…"
"Nyet." Said Ivan firmly, planting his chin atop of Alfred's head. "Nyet, nyet, and nyet again. Give Mr. Yao time to think this over. Am sure he will have some better news to give you Monday."
Alfred snorted, but without any real humor. "As if. The guy's a total stiff, he's never gonna let me slip through the cracks—"
"Oh, I think this time he will," said Ivan cheerfully, draping an arm around his tearful friend before guiding him down the hall.
"What makes you say that?" There was no spark to his words, no joy. Ivan's hand found his own again and squeezed.
"Have faith, Солнышко."
~*oOo*~
He and Kiku got together for their promised playdate over the weekend, but Alfred's spirits were decidedly miserable. Did he wait to tell his parents before or after the letter came that he was a rotten failure? Kiku tried to cheer him up, but the weekend was nearly cheerless and Kiku looked very disappointed when he'd gone back home early.
Alfred had hung out with his injured brother most of the weekend, and though he enjoyed his time away from Ivan, missed him and sent him a text message. It turned out that Ivan and his sisters were going shopping in the city, so he wouldn't be back until Sunday evening.
"By the way, are you sure that Natalya Braginski goes to St. Sebastian's?" Mattie asked curiously while the two were watching TV.
"Pretty sure that's what Ivan told me."
"Well, I asked around and no one knows of a Natalya Braginski there, and it's a pretty small school. You should ask him again."
On Monday morning, Alfred hardly felt any better. He moved sluggishly-more so then custom-and could only pick at his food. He was picked up by Ivan, as per usual, though he only spoke in short, abrupt sentences that obviously had Ivan worried. The Russian attempted to cheer the young man up, but to not avail, much to his dismay. Alfred's eyes were dull and lifeless.
"Cheer up, Голубка," said Ivan sadly as they pulled into the parking lot. "I get feeling things will be better at school, da?"
Alfred just grunted in response. He was set on autopilot for much of the day, unable to process what his teachers were saying, his attention drifting out to the gloomy threshold of early winter outside the windows. He didn't laugh or joke with his friends in the hallway. He didn't even smile.
Ivan looked pained, like a gardener who has walked out to find his blossoms covered in frost.
Right before lunch however, the intercoms crackled and a message came from the Dean: All students in Mr. Yao's classes were to come to the auditorium right away. Confused but still extremely depressed, Alfred and Ivan joined up with the crowds of mystified students who were simply happy for an opportunity to get out the classroom.
After sitting in the threadbare old seats, the murmuring students quieted as their Dean slowly advanced on stage, adjusting the microphone on his shirt.
"I have some bad news," he said simply, tucking his hands behind back like a child accused of wrongdoing. "Though I admit it will definitely be good news for a good lot of you. While the school board is still desperate to get to the bottom of this, it is unlikely we will ever recover the records without Mr. Yao's help."
Students cast each other wondering looks. What in the world did he mean?
The Dean ran his fingers through his curly brown hair and groaned.
"Yes, well….one thing at a time, I suppose….grades from your most recent final with Mr. Yao were about to be processed last night. But the submitted records have all been deleted."
A deathly pause as the students took a moment to process. Then, chaos: Some students exclaimed in joy, while others howled in rage, so many others jabbering. Dean Rome irritably tapped on his microphone to quiet everyone down.
"We could find no papers. We assumed this was just some sort of mistake on Mr. Yao's part, and we tried to phone him….to no avail. His wife announced that he went out shopping-"
"-probably to buy the latest Hello Kitty memorabilia-" whispered Ivan to Alfred's ear. Alfred didn't laugh this time. This was probably the worst attack of déjà vu he'd ever had.
"-last night, but never returned. His car was found parked on the road several miles away from here, engine still running. There was blood on the seats."
Silence again. The Dean smiled wistfully.
"I do not want rumors of Mr. Yao's abduction or murder to run about the school, but I do want to clarify that he is a missing person, and if you have any information pertaining to his whereabouts, we need you to step forward immediately, as we expect you to do should you remember any relevant information pertinent to Arthur Kirkland's case. I will be holding another assembly with the rest of the school tomorrow to discuss this in further detail.
Concerning your grades, they are marked as they were at the very beginning of the year: As. We have been unable to recover any test papers or written scores that Mr. Yao had written down. They may change, however," said Mr. Rome warningly, "If Mr. Yao returns, which he hopefully will, safe and sound. We will keep trying to digitally recover your former scores, but as of yet, there are no promises. As of right now, you all have an 'A' as your final grade in Math."
Alfred sank in his seat, moving his trembling fingertips to his face. Ivan rubbed at his shoulders soothingly.
"See? What did I tell you?" he said gently. "Everything is fine, da? Aren't you happy?"
Alfred didn't know what to feel; he didn't know whether he should hug and kiss everyone in the vicinity and turn somersaults, or if he should fall to his knees. The situation with Mr. Yao sounded awfully serious, and Alfred definitely did not want to be cheering because the poor man was very likely hurt.
He forced a smile, still numb to the world, not noticing Ivan tenderly rubbing his neck.
Mr. Yao was missing. His grade was saved. His scholarship was definitely within reach now. He was out of the red zone, and had miraculously on the road again to graduation. Perfect. Just as easy as pie. Roadblock magically gone.
Roadblock magically gone. Like Arthur, Mr. Yao had vanished without warning. Without any suspicious behavior, they'd faded in thin air. Just gone.
Arthur had hurt Alfred and had been his rival for years. Years. And in a wink, after he'd physically injured Alfred, he was gone. Mr. Yao was gone just after he had failed Alfred.
Alfred's breathing picked up, and Ivan started to anxiously rub Alfred's shoulders, like a worried parent.
"Alfred? Alfred, you are okay, da? You are cold…do you need to go to the nurse's office?"
The present on his front porch. The gifts in his locker. Someone knew where he lived. Someone knew his locker combination.
"Lapushka?"
Just a coincidence. A weird, wild coincidence.
"Alfred, you are worrying me. Please speak."
Someone who knew someone was an obstacle in his way.
Oh, God, what was this?
~*oOo*~
*Faints*
Hmm, I dunno. Could be that you have a stalker madly in love with you, Alfie.
Some things: The whole 'deletion of everyone's records' bit has actually happened before! Pretty unbelievable, but a middle school lost a very large portion of its database due to a clerical error. Hundreds of grades went out the window—there was some furious debate over what should be done, but the schoolboard in the end just decided to let everyone start over. Pretty crazy, huh? Like Ivan crazy!
I don't know how to do sex scenes. Sorry.
Next chapter: The Telltale Heart. We learn a bit more about Ivan, there's a lot of blood, and chocolate! Reviewers will get my love and endless gratitude!