He quickly takes the book bag striped around his shoulder off and drops it to the ground as it harshly knocks against the locker below his. He brings his fingers to the combination lock on his locker and starts to turn the dial in one direction, then the opposite, and back the other way. Nothing happens.
He tries again, turning the black dial on the iron lock, waiting for the sound of a distinct click as the teen hovers over the right numbers before pulling on the lock once more. Still, the padlock has yet to open.
He throws his head back with an agitated sigh. He thinks this couldn't be happening to him now. He knew the combination he was entering had been the right one, the locker belonged to him so wasn't mistakenly trying to open someone else's lock. The thing just wouldn't budge today, no matter how many times he rotates over the same three numbers.
The young teen let out a heavy groan. He was getting frustrated, with his lock and his teachers and his school and more specifically her. She especially comes to mind more often than she needs to. He couldn't think straight and the lock jamming up on him only made his already sour mood rotten.
The teen steps away from the locker and walks back over. He tries his combination once again, methodically turning the dial from one side to another and back around. When it still doesn't open the young blonde brings a fist up against the locker, punching it as hard as he could.
He could feel the reverberation of the hit but not the impact itself. He figured it should have hurt more with the amount of force he put into the hit, but he wasn't complaining. The blonde doesn't need to add another reason to be upset to his already congested list of foolishness.
"Well, well." A voice approaches him from out of sight. It was snooty and a bit condescending, though he rarely ever came off as such. "Twigolas Plantar. You seem a bit upset today." The olive-haired boy leaned up on the locker next to his.
Twig whines at the other boy. "Brodie, dude come on. Chill with my full name." The blond teen sighs and tries for the stubborn lock restraining his locker again.
"Right, right. Sorry, Twig." He beams a sheepish smile at the blonde boy. "But seriously. Something got you down? I seen you throw hands with your locker, and it looks like it ended in a draw." He brings a hand up to his chin. "I guess that means they got better lockers in the budget this year."
The blond grits his teeth at yet another field attempt to get into his locker. "Yeah, it's just-" He grunts at the unrelenting padlock again. "Miss Finster stuck me with extra math homework, I still have to get my art project over to Mr. Molina, Kick Buttowski was bugging the hell out of me earlier, and on top of that, An-" Twig stops himself. He tries to say her name, but his body refuses to let it slip his tongue. He thinks that's good; he didn't want to say it anyway. She didn't deserve the recognition. "This lock won't budge. "He stepped back pointing to the heavy padlock. "I've been at it for minutes now."
"Ohhh." Brodie hums "So I guess the locks were out of the question." He mutters, stepping over to Twig's locker and gently holds the stubborn lock up with one hand. He puts in a combination, not Twig's, and smacks his palm against the lock as it opens right up.
Twig's mouth nearly drops to the floor. "Wait how did-"
"Oh." Brodie turns back to the blond boy. "These locks are so cheap, the combinations only work like forty percent of the time, and on top of that, you don't even have to entire the right combination to open it. It could be any string of numbers; all you'd have to do is give it a good whack after." Brodie explained to the shocked, blond teen. "That's why they always advise you to carry the little key it comes with."
"Really." Twig scowls at Brodie or more so the information he gives and pulls the cheap lock of his locker. "I lost that key this morning..." He mumbles to himself.
"Yup," Brodie said simply. "I think I'm the only one who knows about that little quirk. Well besides you now Twig."
"Of course..." Twig whispers. He always had a problem with how cheap his school actually was. They never got anything good most days and when they do, it's almost always for the teachers' benefit. He's pretty sure even the school lunches were hand-me-downs. Why would he even expect them to spring for proper protection? "Thanks anyway, Brodie."
The other boy blushes. "It's no biggie. That's what friends are for..." Brodie stops and moans nervously to himself. "We are friends, right?"
Twig leans out of his locker and stares at the olive-haired boy with a deadpan look. "Yes Brodie, we're friends." The blond ducks back into the locker, grabbing a few books before coming back out again. "Even if we weren't before, we are now after that stunt you pulled." Twig bends down, stuffing the books in his bag, zipping it up, and slinging one strip back over his shoulder.
"Oh, right," Brodie spoke with a relieved tent of red lighting up his cheeks. The boy was always so nervous about most things and a lot of it usually retained to Twig. The thought of him worrying over their friendship makes Twig chuckle. As if there needed to be a doubt in his mind.
The two start to walk the halls of their school. Next period wouldn't start for a few minutes, so they had some time to enjoy the freedom while it lasted.
There was never much to do around school besides lounge around with friends. Even during lunch where the whole point was for the students to just sit around with friends, a kid would have rather been anywhere else. Sometimes they would mess with the teachers but that was always a bit of a risky pass time.
The only fun thing they could do to pass the time was gossip and luckily for Twig, he was with the school's resident gossip girl, or rather gossip boy, just then. No bit of news would slip Brodie's ear. No matter how big or small it was.
"So, did you hear? Penn Zero got a job working at the theater. Oh, and did you know Randy Cunningham actually passed P.E. recently? Oh, and Molly Mcgee is starting a supernatural podcast with Dipper and Mable Pines." Brodie said, sputtering out bits of information Twig could have guessed was the case.
"Well, Penn was always a movie hound. It makes sense for him to go into that field in one way or another. And those three, Molly Mable and Dipper have always been believers." Twig chuckles, squinting his fingers up in air quotes. "Randy though is a surprise. He doesn't like to do anything." Twig throws his head down, shortly bringing his eyes back up to Brodie. "Come on Brodie, give me something juicy man."
"Juicy huh?" The olive-haired boy brought a hand to rest on his chin and closed his eyes. "Well..." His eyes shoot back open. "Have you heard about that weird girl? She beat the breaks off one of the triplets earlier."
Twig's eyes perk up. The olive-haired boy has his full attention now. "Wait, uhhh... Luz? Really?" He turns with his eyebrows raised in total shock. "Which one?"
"The one who likes blue. Dewey." Brodie snaps his fingers. "Yeah, he was bugging her, and bugging her and bugging her until she had enough. Nearly broke his teeth and almost got expelled for it." Twig blows out a surprised puff of air. Did Luz really do that to one of the triplets? The wildest one at that. "Did you also hear that Jake Long and Kim Possible are dating now?"
Twig shoots a double take Brodie's way. "Kim and Jake?" He says, disbelief rattling around in his exhausted tone. Kim and Jake. She was a knockout, but Jake was a little too goofy. Twig wonders how he managed to pull a girl like her. "How's Ron feeling about that?"
"Not too happy as you can imagine." Brodie chuckles. He was definitely deriving some kind of pleasure from all the heavy rumors he had tucked under his belt. "Did you hear that Phineas, Ferb, and Milo are cooking something up in the labs recently?"
Twig frowns. "Oh lord." That kind of news wasn't the type he was hoping to hear. "We should probably come up with an evacuation plan once they announce whatever it is." Brodie nods in agreement.
"Also did you hear..." Brodie steps closer to Twig, cupping his hands around the blond's ear. "That Cricket Green got that girl Gabriella pregnant."
Twig recoils with a wide open-mouth smile. "What!?" He shouts before immediately bringing his voice down. "They only started dating a week ago." A harsh whisper leaves the blond's bewildered mouth. "Jesus, of course he did. That kid is so wild dude. Damn, I doubt coach is gonna let him play this season."
"Yeah, yeah." Brodie nods some more before moving on. "Also, something was going down in the schoolyard earlier."
Twig touches his fingers to either side of his head. All this news was going to give him a headache. He did ask for the juicy info though and that's what he was getting. "What is going on with this school lately?" He questions himself mostly. "What went down?"
"Oh, just T.J. Being as stupid as ever. It was a big brawl between him and his friends and a group of kids from another school. I hear Mirco, Star, and her ex- Tom were involved too." Brodie turns his body to Twig with his fingers cautiously picking at his bottom lip. "Apparently T.J. would go over to their neighborhood and just mess with them."
"Wait. Yeah, I think I know who you're talking about." Twig leans over the boy. "The one they follow behind; he wears a red sweater and sunglasses all the time? Hairs usually shaved down?" He hovers his hands over his hair as he explains.
"Yeah. All five of 'em came through. It was complete anarchy." Brodie laughs and Twing follows along. The blonde was still trying to take all the information in. He had been too overworked and too stressed out to really care about anything around school, so he was happy to have someone like Brodie around. He could always count on the olive-haired boy for all the best goings on around the school. "By the way..." Brodie looks back at Twig, biting down on his thumb with a light blush across his face. "If you weren't doing anything after school, did you want to come over to my house?"
Twig turns his head to the other boy. A light smile smoothly guilds over his lips. "Oh yeah?" He spoke softly. "And do what might I ask?"
Brodie chuckles, the smile on his face quickly shifting expressions. "Well- I... you know we could, maybe study. Or play video games- though I don't really have much..." Brodie trail off as his mind recedes into deep thought.
"Don't sweat it. Molly's sick anyway so I have to take care of her. You can come by my place and help me keep watch." The olive-haired boy smiles and nods. Twig would smirk back until the expression completely dropped from his face suddenly.
"W-what's wrong," Brodie asked and began to follow the boy's eyes over to where it had rested. "Ohhh..." It was her, of course hanging out with her two best friends, Sasha and Marcy. Her hair was brushed back and pulled into a ponytail, the soft smile she wore was warmer than any sun could ever be. She was always so beautiful to him, even when he couldn't stand to look at her. "You shouldn't have done that you know."
Twig brought confused, and slightly angry eyes over to the other boy. "Hmm?"
"Started dating. Everyone said so. Even I said, don't go get high with her that day, because once you did then you'd open up, she'd sink her teeth in, and it only ever ends one way with her. Everyone knows how she is."
"I know," Twig growls at the sight of her laughing with her friends. "I just thought that I would be different. That she would see as more than something she could use to get her kicks with." The blonde runs a hand over his eyes. "I really tried my best to make it work. But I guess my best wasn't good enough for her." He stared at her and all of a sudden, she stared back. "She's too much of a unique bitch to be held down I guess..." He mumbles under his breath.
When their eyes met each other for the first time since their abrupt break up he could feel his heart begin to thump in his chest. He was angry with her, but he still gets the urge to want to go to her. To talk everything out. To make what they had work again.
Before he gets the chance, a flash of red, green, and blue ruptures his vision then all of a sudden there was nothing. No Brodie beside him, no slightly less cheap school lockers, no mean girl Sasha, nerdy Marcy or her.
Now there was only darkness and the sound of someone calling out to him.
"Sprig. Sprig. Sprig, wake up." The young teen frog winced his closed eyes at the sound. "Wake up now or I'm getting the water bucket again." He groans. It was his sister of course and she was threatening to douse him with cold water.
She may have gotten him with that all week long but not today. "Okay... okay!" He slowly rises from his bed, eyes still halfway closed as he looks her way. "You don't have to scream in my ear every morning you know."
She gives him a spiteful chuckle. "Well, you're the reason for it. I have to take time out of my own life because you have a problem controlling yours." He steps closer to him. "So, I'm gonna take every opportunity I can get to bug you."
"You're vindictive you know that?" He delivered a sizzling hiss.
"And you're lazy moppy bum." She shoves at his shoulder with one finger. "Now get out of bed now." She turns to leave his room with the door open. The girl wouldn't go too far, just outside of his door to give Sprig some privacy to get dressed.
She's been watching over him all week long. Ever since that day, he had come home plastered out of his mind, Hop Pop didn't trust the teen to do anything on his own. There was even talk about canceling his trip out of Amphibia entirely. If Hop Pop couldn't trust him now, who knows what he might get up to on his own, far away from Wartwood.
Sprig sighs and reaches under his pillow like he did every morning. The phone's screen blinks to life and the image of him and her pops up. Something was different with it. He usually loved seeing her face every morning but now he couldn't stand it.
He drops the phone on his bed and springs up to his feet. He raises his arms far above himself to stretch out his tired body. He picks his jacket and hat up from the floor, though he has no idea where his goggles had gotten off to.
Last night he didn't even bother putting them away properly. With everything going on, Polly constantly watching him, and Hop Pop's distrust, the boy was stressed and angry. The only one that seemed to be cutting him any slack at all was Sylvia.
The young teen throws his jacket on and looks back at the bad. That phone was another thing getting on his nerves, but he would take it along anyway. He wasn't ready to part with the device just yet.
Sprig couldn't believe how careless he'd been. He was always wary of keeping his habit under warps. The teen never saw it as such to begin with, but in recent weeks he's found himself drinking more and more. He only got the urge to do it when he thought of her.
Now because of that one night a week ago, that one slip-up, the boy was under constant surveillance. Mostly under the watchful eye of his warden Polly.
She watched as he took his baths, whenever he got dressed, and as he ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The girl's eyes were stuck to him like a bad rash. Wherever he went she would stick close behind. Even now in the hot sun, his sister would watch over him like a prison guard.
He was working the farm that day. As part of his punishment, his grandfather had the boy pick up most of the chores around the farm. Cleaning out the barn, fixing up the house, and today, working the field.
Their automated tools weren't broken, and Frobo was still functional. Hop Pop was just being spiteful toward the young teen, and there wasn't much Sprig could do to argue against the unfair treatment.
He doesn't see the issue with what he chooses to put into his body. He doesn't see it as a bad thing like Hop Pop had. Sprig didn't do it often; he could control it. He knew he could. Whenever the itch to have another drink came around, the young teen knew how to fight it off. There was no issue in his mind. Though speaking of his grandfather.
Sprig could see the man riding along the path to their home on top of Bessie. It was good to see the snail on the move again. He knew it's been a while for her and even though she wasn't as fast as she used to be, the old girl was as strong as ever.
"Sprig." The old man calls. The teen had been hard at work, cutting corn from their stocks and chucking them in a basket.
"Yeah." He blankly responds, keeping his eyes away from his grandfather and on the task at hand.
"Mail for ya, boy." The man says, grabbing Sprig's attention, waving a letter above him. The boy tosses the corn he was holding, into his basket and rushes over to the snail. He reluctantly gazes up at his grandfather as the man holds onto the latter, considering whether or not he should give it to the boy before eventually tossing it down after making him wait.
Sprig catches the letter, nearly fumbling it as the piece of mail comes floating down to him. He turns to see what it reads. It was from Olivia. "Can I read it?" He looks back up to the older frog who huffs out a petty scoff and brings his eyes to Polly.
"Polly!" He waves the girl over.
"Hop pop." Sprig groans at the old man. "Do I really need Polly around to read a letter?"
"Yes. Until you can build back up that trust you so carelessly throw in the trash, she's going to be with you at all times." Hop pop spat. His words struck Sprig like a rock to the head, stabbed deep into his heart like a serrated dagger without a second thought. "Go with him, Polly."
"You got it Hop Pop." She puts a hand on Sprig's shoulder which he roughly shrugs off and rushes to the house.
He enters his study in the basement of his family's home, shutting the door on Polly who proceeds to give him an angry look when she enters. He ignores her glare for the most part. The teenager couldn't care less what his sister thought about him.
Sprig takes a seat at his desk, laying out the letter written to him by Olivia. If one good thing had come from that night, it was Wally giving home the idea to find a way to see her again. Or to at least contact her.
He would decide to write to Olivia for any information she might have on a second box or more gems hidden around the world. In response, she had told him she would find everything she could. The queen of Newtopia had been sending him books from the grand archives every day that week. Though this time he only receives a letter.
At first, Sprig thought the reason for the single letter was because the queen had discovered something important. That after a week of dead ends, they had finally stumbled upon an answer if not information they could work with. Instead, when he opens the letter, the writing inside isn't of some grand discovery or news of success. Instead, what he gets isn't what he was hoping to see.
'My dearest Sprig. It is with a heavy heart that I inform you of my ceasing to further aid in your endeavor. At first, my willingness to offer assistance was to possibly ease your uneasy mind, however, my preparedness to feed this false hope was a mistake. I should have been more forward with you. There is no other box aside from the one that had been destroyed some years ago. There could not be. This admission pains me to write. You are a bright young man who is courageous beyond his years, and I find myself growing more concerned with this obsession of yours. If I were to continue leading you a stray, I fear that one day you would come to resent me worse than you no doubt do at this very moment. If you would like, and if this letter has not aggravated you, I would like to visit so that we may discuss more about how you are. From Newtopia with apologies, Queen Olivia.'
The letter read like an obituary. Olivia wrote about how sorry she was to inform him that she couldn't send any more material and that his obsession with finding another box was starting to concern her. It details how bad she felt for him and how she was willing to help if only to ease his mind, but that it was a mistake. She went on to write that if he wanted, she would visit so they could talk about how he was feeling. How he was feeling...
He looks up from the note, a deep frown sat arched across his lips. Needless to say, he wasn't happy, he probably felt worse than he had before. The young teen tears the elegantly written letter up. Rips it to bits, and pieces and scatters it all over his head, slamming his head down onto the desk as the shreds full to the ground like snowfall in winter.
Polly looks at him from the bed in the far corner. She held her chin in the palm of her hand and sighed. The girl hops off the bed and walks toward the hopeless boy.
"Hey, Sprig." She stops behind him, gently speaking his name but he sets, wordlessly breathing dry heaves and weaving silent tears. "Sprig..." She steps over to the side of the desk. "I know how you feel. I know that her being gone feels heavy. You..." She stops unsure. "You shouldn't let it get to you, shouldn't let her being gone hurt so bad."
Sprig wheezing comes to a stop suddenly. He slowly brings his head up from the desk and fires off a rageful glare at his sister. "What do you even know?" He hisses. "You and her weren't like us. You didn't have what we had. You just got in the way most of the time..." He spoke the words before his mind had a chance to process the outcome.
He had been expecting her to say something. Yell at him, berate him, and tell him how wrong he was. Anything that wasn't just silents and the soul-wrenching look of hurt in her eye. She takes a step away from him.
Sprig wanted to apologize but his mind was too caught up in recent events to function reasonably. Hop Pop and Olivia. He couldn't say what he wanted to, but he knew he couldn't say anything at all. His mouth opens up though nothing would come out in time.
His attention, along with Polly's is drawn to the upstairs. They hear arguing and stumping that doesn't stop for some time. Once it did, however, the pair of siblings could hear footsteps approaching the basement door.
"Sprig? Polly!?" Sylvia calls down to the duo. "Me and your Hop pop need to have a private discussion. Could you possibly head into town for a while?"
Sprig and Polly look at each other with arched brows, then back up to the stairs. "Okay..." Polly answers, tapping Sprig and motioning him to the cellar door. She thinks going through the basement's second exit is better than going up through the house.
They step back into the sun as more arguing ensues from within the farm home.
"So... what do you want to do?" Polly asked, getting zero response in return when Sprig started walking without her. "Hey? Hey, where are going?" She runs after him and still gets no answer, no word, not even a moody grunt from the boy.
He was angry, that much was so very clear. His mind was twisted and tangled up in a maelstrom of vexation and bitterness. His walk was less than peaceful, downright hateful if anything. His heart was engulfed in fire and his stomach was boiling with rage.
The young teen was inconsolable, fed up with everyone and everything around him, his grandfather Olivia, his sister following, and even her for up and leaving him behind. He only knew of one person who might be able to understand. A man who's known the same kind of anger much longer than the boy.
He makes it to his destination with Polly hot on his tail. The trip between the two was a quiet one. Not like he needed to speak to her. She had been watching his every movement, there was nothing Sprig could say that she probably didn't already know.
Saying Toad Tower had seen better days would have been an understatement. The old fort was rundown and desolate. After Wartwood's altercation with the toad militia some years back and the subsequent destruction of the tower due to one of Wally's wily, explosive antics, the fort was never really rebuilt.
That didn't mean it wasn't in use, however. Nowadays the toads were a less abrasive kind. They've been a big part of patrolling and protecting the lands of Amphibia. The toads normally used the old fort to train, though today it was suspiciously empty.
Sprig looks around. He couldn't understand where the toads had run off to, but he knew they couldn't be far.
He checks the barracks, finding nothing but empty cots and abounded meals. He picks up a bowl to check inside. A lot of the food was still inside, nearly untouched. The bowl was still warm which meant they only just left.
He checks the armory next but also finds nothing in the way of intelligent life. though he does notice that a bunch of their weapons are gone. Was there an emergency? Had every toad in the fort gone off to war?
The young teen would make his way to the obstacle course next and much like before he finds nothing at all.
"Where in the..." Sprig whispers. The old fort was rarely ever empty. He couldn't contemplate where everyone might have run off to. The young teen looks back at Polly. She was sitting on a stone wall, peering back at him with worried eyes.
"Ha!" He gets ready to leave when he hears something. The sound of laughter, barreling down toward him from above. The boy looks up and as soon as his eyes find the source of the twisted laughter, the figure lands on top of him, keeping him pinned to the ground. "Protege!" He shouts down at the teen with a big smile.
Spring looked up and laughed at the hulking toad above him. "Hi, Grime." He greats the man. The milky white of his scared eye glistened in the shadow of the sun.
"Hi, yourself, Sprig." He comes off the boy and holds a handout to him. Sprig takes it and is dragged off the ground and right to his feet.
The young teen pats himself down and then turns his gaze back to the battle-scared toad. His eyebrows furrow as he squints at the man.
"Hey, why's this place so empty?" Sprig asked. "Moving base or something?"
"No, no." Grime chuckled. "I just have everyone out on patrol." He cups a hand around his mouth. "Bandit around the bend." The scared toad whispers, with a wink from his scared eye. Though there was nobody around to eavesdrop he would remain cautious, nevertheless. News always found a way to spread like wildfire around Wartwood. "But enough of all that. What brings you by."
Sprig's smile shatters when the recollection of why he was there wraps back around to him. "Oh yeah..." He looks away from the toad, huffing at the ground below. "Man Grime. You know everything's been really messed up lately and I just needed someone to talk to."
An understanding hum reverberates from the toad. "Alright." He looks over to Polly and flashes an okay with his fingers to make sure she was alright, and she returns the signal. "Follow me." He waves Sprig over.
They don't go too far, only walking to the open cafeteria of a makeshift mess hall. Grime points at one of the benches and the two take a seat on either end.
"So..." Grime props his elbows down on the table, adjusting himself on the bench to make the wood seating more comfortable. "What's the matter, protege? Something got you down? Someone...?" Grime asks the boy sitting across from him.
"I..." He starts hesitantly. "Lately a lot's been going on. Hop pops mad at me for something he's blowing way out of proportion and now he's got Polly watching me twenty-four seven. It's like I have a little drink and suddenly I'm the worst frog in the world."
"Well, technically you're not supposed to be drinking at your age." He mutters past a shrug.
"That's not the point." Sprig slaps his palm down on the table and Grime raises a curious brow at the teen's sudden outburst. "The point is that they're being super irritating. Everyone in my life has been irritating me. It's like no matter who I talk to, they all seem to think I'm going through something. They all try to pity me and offer advice I don't need, and it makes me so angry Grime." He looks at the battle-hardened toad. The boy's eyes spoke a thousand painful words from feelings he either kept hidden under wraps or didn't understand altogether. "That's why I came to you. You know what it's like, you've seen your fair share of pain, you've been this angry, and I'm sure you are now. I just need help dealing with it, to channel it into something cool... or something... you know."
Grime keeps his hands together, placing two fingers up to his mouth as he blazes a sturdy gaze at the worked-up teenager. "So... you came to me in the hopes that I would help deal with the anger you've been feeling inside?" Sprig nods steadily. Grime sat calmly for a time before starting up a small chuckle. "Well, I have indeed been known to be angry in the past, a tyrannical warmonger you might say." He laughs though Sprig doesn't share his dark sense of humor. "Yes, I was a very angry man. Then Sasha showed up, and I wasn't so angry anymore. She taught me that I can take it easy, that life isn't all war, brooding, and being a tyrant."
"But then she left." Sprig murmurs to the toad. "Doesn't that make you feel awful? Like you just want to go back to being the person you used to be?"
He stays quiet, observing the boy before forcing his eyes away. "Yes, she did leave. But I never blamed her for it, and I never once thought I had to go back to the person, I used to be because of it. I sat with her in my thoughts many a night, and I remembered what she taught me, who she taught me how to be." The toad breathes an unsteady sigh. "Sprig, you came to me in the hopes that I would help you with your anger, and so I will. Don't let that rage you feel become you. Don't take it out on everyone around you. Don't take it out on yourself. Instead cut yourself some slack, cut everyone in your life the same kind. It might feel like nobody understands you but that's not true. So many people only wish to see you happy, it's why they offer their assistance so often. Don't close yourself off boy, it isn't always a weakness to be vulnerable. Expressing yourself is just... being alive."
Sprig keeps his head lowered to the toad. The burning feeling inside his chest had smothered under the weight of a new feeling. Something colder and emptier. He brings his eyes back up to Grime. "Okay." He whispers past quivering lips.
"Good boy." The toad said. "Now you two get home. I'll stop by later to see how you're holding up." Sprig nods to him as he stands from the table.
The walk back home with Polly had been just as quiet as before. Only now he held no resentment toward his younger sister, or anyone for that matter. This new feeling crowding his mind and wrapping around his heart was much heavier than anything he had felt before.
He knows Grime told him to not go so hard on himself, but Sprig can't help but feel a sort of shame in himself for everything that had been occurring in his life.
They walk up to their front door just as the sky begins to paint over in streaks of orange from the sun's encroaching departure. Sprig grabs ahold of the knob and pushes the door open, allowing Polly in first.
"Oh, kids." Sylvia was there to welcome them in the foyer along with Hop Pop by her side. "Go on Hopediah." She ushers the man forward. The young teen could tell there was something different with his grandfather. For the past week anytime Hop Pop looked Sprig's way it was always with either anger or shame. Now the man could hardly look at him at all and when he did it was with regret.
"Sprig." He steps up to him nervously. "What I said to you, how I've been treating you. I know you've been going through something lately and I know you don't like to talk about it much, but ya can talk to me. Or Sylvia or Polly. After you came home that day, I was so scared. to think ya would do that to yourself, I..." The old man starts to choke up. "I don't want to lose ya Sprig and I don't want you to be angry with me for trying to keep a chain around ya... I'm so sorry."
"No Hop Pop, I'm sorry." Sprig said. "I shouldn't have come home like that; I shouldn't have been in that tavern in the first place. It's just ever since-..." He stopped, he couldn't pull himself to say it, to talk about her any more than he had to. He was still too scared. "I'm sorry..." He Whispers as Hop Pop wraps the boy up in a tight hug.
The old man held him there, too afraid to let go of his child, and in all honesty, Sprig was afraid for him to let go as well. He didn't want to be left alone then, not with how he was feeling. Eventually, the older frog would retract the warm embrace.
"Okay..." Hop Pop wipes his tear-stained eyes. "I'll see you kids in the morning. It's getting late." He said, walking hand in hand with Slyivia up the staircase.
Sprig watches the couple go, giving them some time to ascend the stairs before he makes his way up. "Hey, Polly." He turns to his sister as he places a foot on the first step.
"Hmm?" She lets out a tired hum in response.
"I want to say sorry... to you too. Earlier I..." He pauses. Bringing up the subject was always so hard for him and discussing it was even harder. "I held out this hope that maybe I could see her again and when it was dashed... I didn't know what to think. I'm really sorry for what I said about you and her."
His sister slowly starts to smile at him, her pearly whites glistening like bright beacons of light. "Don't sweat it. I know you miss her." She lightly punches at his arm and turns to the living room.
"Polly?" He stops her, getting the girl to spin around again. "Could you... Maybe spend the night with me?" He grins with a dark blush flooding his cheeks. She smirks and shakes her head.
"Of course."