I emerge from the beaches of my Animal Crossing island to bring you lovely people this chapter. This would have been posted yesterday but I lost track of time and refused to do my final run-through of this chapter at eleven at night. I hope you lovelies enjoy! ~Shaymie

Chase

Haven't seen Freckles in a while...

Chase frowned as he stared down at a book, listening to the rain pound against his roof. He'd blame her being holed up in her house on Chelsea the Terrible and Mark the Douchebag if it weren't for the fact that she's been inside long before they showed up. It's normally not like him to care. Angela had teased him for asking how her sister was doing. He responded by purposefully (accidentally if you asked him) overcooking her burger. She flipped him off before taking a big bite.

Try as he might, he couldn't stop thinking about everything Molly had told him and Maya. It wasn't at all what he expected. Then again, what was he expecting? Something mundane being the reason she quit, like her siblings being unable to afford her classes? Or maybe he was expecting something more unexpected like... some sex scandal or something. That would at least be better than sabotage at the hands of a jealous best friend that led to permanent brain damage.

She'd hit her head hard enough—or maybe from enough of a height, that Ash guy was tall—to cause her to develop epilepsy.

How wasn't she more pissed about this?

He didn't know shit about ballet, but she said she'd been doing it since she was a kid. That's years of hard work, at least a decade. Maya said that she saw dozens of trophies and medals in Molly's room at one point. It was obvious she'd dedicated herself to dancing, poured every bit of her heart and soul into it. She was probably considering a career in it. And instead she's here, a farmer in the middle of nowhere, while the person responsible for her forced retirement is just living life without a care in the world. Everything about Chelsea just reeked of privilege and self-importance.

It's hard to believe Molly was ever best friends with someone like that. They're complete opposites in more than just personality. Chelsea was tall and willowy, with no curves to speak of. He'd spotted her enviously eying Angela's chest at the bar. Even Mark had been caught staring a couple times, earning him a middle finger from Angela and a slap from Chelsea. It's hard to believe those two are actually dating when they seem to be constantly arguing. They're like Craig and Ruth only twenty years younger.

And Molly, on the other hand, has been slowly filling out, her thinness turning to soft curves. Not like he's been staring or anything. It's just hard to not notice when she insists on taking a seat at the bar right in front of him night after night. He didn't realize how accustomed he'd become to her presence. She wasn't overly chatty like Maya, but there's still something missing when she's not around. It's not the same without those bright honey eyes looking at him or her smiling shyly as she complimented his cooking...

What the hell? It's only been a couple days and he's acting like she's dead or something. When did he get so attached to her?

He sat up at the sound of knocking. He frowned. Was the wind making him hear things? Maya's been visiting a lot lately, wanting to watch videos she's found of Molly performing—it's still hard to believe she could be so graceful and so unlike her normal clumsy self, though maybe the clumsiness was a result of the accident—but there's no way she'd come over here while it's raining to pester him. He strains his ears to listen for the sound and hears it again, louder and insistent. And then he hears her voice calling out his name, barely audible over the wind and rain.

Think of the fucking devil and she'll appear. He dropped his book and walked to the door, flinging it open. Molly's standing on his porch, arms wrapped around herself in a pathetic attempt to stay warm. He doesn't hesitate before pulling her into the house, shutting the door behind her. He wants to scream at her, ask her what the hell was she thinking coming all this way without a coat or even an umbrella, but she looks so... small right now. And she's soaked through to the bone and shivering and he should focus on getting her warmed up.

Molly was silent as he led her to his bedroom, her gaze focused on the floor. What was going through her head? He'd gone to see her once, in the early days of her isolation. She was snippy and irritable and all but told him to fuck off. Her exact words were simply "leave me alone," because she's still Freckles and has some sort of aversion to swearing, but the meaning was still there. But it was still shocking to see her snap at... well, anybody. She'd even given Angela a bit of a stink-eye. He didn't think she had a negative bone in her body, the way she always had a smile for everyone, the way she just radiated warmth.

"I—"

"Save it." She blinked as he dropped a bundle of clothes and a towel into her arms. Her eyes flickered up to meet his, and even dulled with whatever emotions she was feeling, they were still warm. He pointed her towards the bathroom. "Go take a shower and warm up. Your sister will kill me if you catch a cold."

"She won't kill you," Molly said with a giggle. "You're my friend, and friends are off-limits. At least that's what I always told her whenever she got mad at Chelsea for something she said."

"How were you friends with her?" The smile fell from her face. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. He had a feeling that was the first time she's smiled in days. Angela drank more than usual when she came into the bar and worried over her sister. She came out when he was on his smoke break a couple days ago, telling him that Molly's gone back to barely eating again. Then she bummed a cigarette from him and sulked next to him. Her mood brightened when Luke came outside to check on her and covered her face with kisses like a lovesick puppy.

"We grew up together," Molly murmured, looking back down at the floor. "We did everything together. We were best friends. I couldn't leave her, even when she started being mean to other people. When she started being mean to me."

He could tell that there was more she wanted to say, but she just bit her lip and excused herself to the bathroom. The shower turned on a few moments later. He sighed and got to work cleaning up the puddles she'd left on his floor. At least she didn't snap at him this time. How long had she been outside if she was dripping so much water everywhere? What drove her to come out in the rain to see him? He was only vaguely aware of the fact that this is the first time she's been inside his house. He's gone to see the sisters several times, but Molly's only ever stood on his porch to bring him oranges from the farm.

Once the puddles were cleaned up, he got to work making something for her to eat. Angela said that Molly hasn't had much of an appetite, but maybe he could convince her to eat something. He's not sure if her loss of appetite is a nervous reaction to Chelsea being here or if it's a sign of relapsing. He doesn't know much about the extent of her eating disorder, not that it was any of his business anyway. She'd been purposefully vague when telling him and Maya about it. It looked to him like she was trying to detach herself from it but obviously couldn't. How could she?

She said she'd started dancing when she was a kid. Didn't mention a specific age, but still, doing something from childhood to adulthood and then suddenly being told you can't do it because of a traumatic injury had to be devastating. Yet it seemed to him like she didn't want to get upset about it. He's seen the way she'd react when people mentioned her dancing. There would be a flash of emotion across her face—Sadness? Regret? It was too fast for him to read—and then she'd force a smile onto her face.

She really had to get better about telling people when things made her uncomfortable.

"Chase?" He looked up from the frying pan at the sound of her voice and felt his face betray him by heating up. He's always known that the Parker sisters were attractive. He's not blind. But while Angela's beauty was more in your face, Molly's was subtle. More girl next door. Except now she actually looked sort of... cute, bundled up in his clothes. She had rolled up the sleeves of the sweater and the legs of the pants since she was impossibly small compared to him. Maybe her short height was an asset back when she danced. "I, um... put my clothes in the hamper in the bathroom. I hope that's alright."

"Y-Yeah, that's fine. I'll get them later." He turned back to the stove before the fried rice burned—before she noticed how red his stupid fucking face was—and frowned. He's not the type to get flustered over a pretty girl, least of all Freckles. It's not like anything about her is different. She's the same old awkward, clumsy, shy Freckles he's come to know. The same girl who, for reasons still unknown to him, decided that they should be friends and stubbornly hung around him until he caved in.

She took a seat at the dining table, and despite trying to save his dignity by turning away, Chase couldn't help but glance at her. She thankfully wasn't paying him any attention, instead looking around the house as she twirled a bit of damp hair around her finger. Her brow furrowed as she stared at a spot in the wallpaper, her lips turning up in a slight pout.

"Chelsea's dad paid my hospital bills," she murmured out of the blue. Her hand dropped from her hair, the strand she'd been toying with brushing her cheek. "He offered to pay for my medicine and therapy too, but Kasey turned him down. Mr. Jacobs said he was going to talk to Chelsea about her attitude, but Angie and Ash told me she's as mean as ever."

"I think Luke's been buying your sister drinks to keep her from knocking Chelsea's teeth in." The rice was done, so Chase turned off the stove and transferred it to a plate. Molly hummed and leaned her head against the palm of her hand.

"No wonder she's been coming home drunker than usual... She came home tonight and left Kasey some drunk voicemails before passing out." She gave him her signature shy smile as he placed the food in front of him. This time there was no hiding as he felt the heat rush to his face. If she noticed, she didn't say anything. She just accepted the fork from him and dug in like she's been starved for days. He took a seat at the table across from her, willing his stupid blush to go away.

What's gotten into him? He's not some teenage boy who gets embarrassed when a girl pays the slightest bit of attention to him, or Luke who still gets flustered when Angela flirts with him. Nothing's changed. Maybe he's just tired. He'd been planning on going to bed before she showed up. He still had some of the dried chamomile she'd gifted him. It helped better than the medicine he had been taking before.

"So, Freckles... Mind telling me why you came running to my house in the pouring rain?" Her eating slowed, the pout returning to her face.

"I wasn't running," she muttered with a huff. "It's just... I've been stressed. And I needed to get out of the house but I couldn't go to the beach because what if Chelsea was there? I want to talk to her before she leaves but I'm not ready yet. And it wasn't raining when I left the house. I spent a while looking up at the stars out in the field. The sky's clearer out here than it was back home. Then I guess I fell asleep and woke up to it raining. I didn't want to go back in the house so I came here."

"You want to talk to her? Didn't you say that you avoided her back in the city?" He raised an eyebrow as she looked away and started eating again, that stubborn pout still on her face. He had a feeling Angela wouldn't be thrilled about that. She was protective of her precious baby sister. She'd threatened Chelsea when the younger girl came into the bar the first time, telling her to stay away from her sister or else. Chelsea just smiled smugly before taking a seat at the bar—Molly's seat, though she had no way of knowing—and ordering some food.

Chase may or may not have spit in it.

"Wait," he says before she can open her mouth to respond, "you fell asleep outside? What the hell, Freckles?"

"I didn't mean to! The weather was just so clear and perfect, how could I not sit and watch the stars?" The pout fell from her face, replaced with a dreamy expression. She loved the stars. It was one of the first things he'd learned about her back when they were meeting up on the beach. For the most part they'd stare at the ocean together quietly, but sometimes she'd fill the silence with whatever random nonsense popped into her head.

"Clear and perfect until it rained on you."

"I can't predict the weather," she said with a roll of her eyes. She finished off the last of her food and pointed at him with her fork. "Besides, the rain brought me here to see you and now we can make up for lost time!"

"Make up for lost time doing what? All you do at the bar is eat and fall asleep and you've done both of those things tonight." It's rare for Molly to make it all the way through the night at the bar. He's given up on trying to get her to stay awake and he had to admit, it was interesting hearing the things she'd say in her sleep. She huffed and leaned forward in her seat, drying hair brushing her cheek.

"We could watch a movie or something!"

"What, so you can fall asleep and drool on me again?"

"You make it sound like all I do is fall asleep when we're hanging out. I already took a nap earlier, I won't fall asleep this time!"

I should have expected this.

Chase sighed as Molly slumped against him with a quiet snore. She'd started dozing off about fifteen minutes into the movie—she'd dug through his movies and pulled out Ratatouille, a going away gift from her annoying cousin—but denied being sleepy. It wasn't even fifteen minutes after that that she'd fallen asleep. Is falling asleep during movies just a habit of hers? He almost wanted to push her off the couch, but even he's not that mean. He looked down at her and rolled his eyes.

...At least she's not drooling.