Chapter 1.22

Chapter 1.22- Too Young To Be Trusted

"If you want to keep a secret, you must also keep it from yourself."

-George Orwell

                Buck had carefully explained the rules of the shootout to his sweet little girl, even explaining that ratty clothes would be wise in case she worked up a sweat. Inwardly, Buck was fairly certain that he’d be the one working up a sweat trying to make sure he didn’t make beating her look too easy.

                Layla watched Buck warily. The way he was acting was a little embarrassing to her. He was talking to her like she was two.  Sighing heavily, she waited until he was very, very antsy before she made her shot.

                If Buck would check the report cards instead of Helen, or even along with Helen, he would have known that his sweet little girl excelled in almost all of the mandatory participation sports. In fact, the gym teacher would sometimes pull her aside and give her more advanced tips that she didn’t give the elementary populace in general.

                Layla was thrilled when the Buck went to the opposite corner, instead of the one she shot for.

                Looking up at his cheering daughter, Buck decided he’d better call it quits right then. It looked like he might be in a little bit of trouble if he pushed this shootout too hard. So much for trying to make it look easy.

                Across the field, Cyrus was doing his very best to walk silently up to a girl looking across the pond. Once he reached her, he steadied himself for a moment, trying to gauge the best way to surprise her. Breathing in as quietly as he can, finally, he lets her know of his presence.

 “Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill be more
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue
Unfold the imagined happiness that both
Receive in either by this dear encounter.”

                As he speaks a smile soft as a spring rain creeps across her lips, though she doesn’t say anything for a few moments. She stands still and tries to control her own breathing, her suddenly rapid hearbeat betraying her.

                Her whole face is alight as she finally turns to Cyrus. A slow flush creeps across her cheeks. And though she doesn’t allow her lips to curve much, the smile in her eyes is eloquent.

“Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
Brags of his substance, not of ornament:
They are but beggars that can count their worth;
But my true love is grown to such excess
I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.” Is her answer to him.

                For a few moments, the pair see nothing but the other. They don’t speak aloud, but seem to know the others thoughts. Cyrus' fingertips tingle and spark with longing to touch some part of the person he sees as an angel, and who stands so close. So very, very close.

                Finally, suddenly, with a sharp intake of breath the girl looks down at her nails appearing to forget that Cyrus is still standing rapt in front of her.

                “Um…” She sighs. “It’s… uh… interesting… seeing you… seeing you in … in public.” Her stammering is nothing compared to how her hands tremble.

                “Yes,” he answers softly. “Yes, but half the town is here. How natural is it to speak to a girl from school when I meet her during the summer festival in town? Actually, I think it might look rather odd if I didn’t speak to you.”

                She looks up sharply, the fire behind her eyes gaining intensity.

                “Cy, your mom is here,” She knows her argument very well. “Your mom and my mom HATE each other, and your mom will never approve of us. If we want to be together, we can’t do this where anyone else can see. And this isn’t my problem. You’re the one who brought it up so long ago.”

                “My mom is occupied almost totally with exploring all of this and taking pictures,” Cyrus tries to soothe her. Inside, he’s cursing himself for ever forcing that stupid secrecy rule on the two of them. “Your mom is at work. Sadie isn’t here. Buck knows nothing about our moms not liking each other. In fact, you’re the one who told me that in the first place. I don’t even know that my mom knows that she doesn’t like your mom. I doubt she would even remember who you are, Olivia.”

                Trying to look reproachfully at him fails. She can’t let him down, but there is danger all around them. It’s more than just his mom… it’s…

                “What about your sisters?” She asks him. “I know that you’ve said that one is a loud mouth who has to be boss and the other is too young to be trusted to keep a secret. They’re here, too.  What if they see?”

                Cyrus is momentarily stymied. She’s got him there. Phedra would spill the beans just because it’s something she would know that their parents would not. Layla would most likely tell 'just because.' Galen is the only one who might be able to keep it a secret if he saw them. And that’s only because he’d forget about it in half an hour’s time.

                “Look,” Cyrus has been silent, pondering what to do for almost a full minute. “Look, maybe we can just keep it casual and hang out. There’s a lot to do that my sisters wouldn’t have to be in on.”

                His pleading tone and puppy eyes soon work on Olivia. She can’t disappoint him, it would be too awful.

                “Please, Liv,” Cyrus keeps up his plea. “I can’t bear to be here together and not at least hang out. Maybe we can’t hold hands, but at least I can know that you’re near…”

                He can sense that she’s weakening.

                “Please, Liv.”

                She isn’t meeting his eye, and even her shoulders have relaxed. Though Cyrus knows that until she says it aloud she’s just fiery enough to refuse and play coy.

                “Aw, come on. You know you want to.”

                A tiny smile appears on her face, and Cyrus knows he’s won.

                “There’s a photo booth over there,” he suggests. “Let’s get a souvenir.”

                Cyrus is thrilled with the outcome, pouring over the photos as Olivia tries to keep a discreet distance between them. Friends taking a photo is one thing, lovers hanging around behind the curtain of the photo booth is another.

                “I want to get my face painted,” Cyrus tells her back.

                “I don’t,” Olivia is notoriously vain. “I’ll watch, though.” She adds with a smile when she sees the hurt look on his face.

                Olivia has a great time flirting with the face-painter, getting him totally distracted and making Cyrus move his head half way through. She refused to let Cyrus wash the awful paint job off though, telling him with a bubbly giggle that she wanted more time to keep the memory.

                The young couple hadn’t taken two steps out of the face painters tent before Cyrus was nearly dragged down by Phedra.

                Phedra and Layla wanted to have a water-balloon fight, but wanted to be on the same team and Galen had outright refused to join them in any way.

                When Cyrus tried to get out of it by claiming he was spending time with a friend, Phedra insisted she join as well. In the end… just to shut her up… they had agreed.

                Cyrus was only half in the game. He was constantly on the lookout for Helen and worried about the impression his sisters were making on his girlfriend.

                His head was constantly swiveling as he tried to see everything going on around him all at once.

                Phedra had watched Layla in PE and knew just what her sister was bringing to the table as her teammate. However, it wasn’t an excuse for her not to try and show up Cyrus. In order to do that, she needed to have her head one hundred percent in the game.

                It took Phedra a moment or two to take in that Cyrus was a little distracted. She took it for granted, though, that he wasn't simply mesmerized by the lights, sounds, and smells of the carnival-like atmosphere around them.

                Phedra’s cheers and being drenched with cold water finally got Cyrus to get in the game. Around him his view sharpened, and he suddenly forgot about his mom. Since Phedra had aimed for him, he would aim for her.

                Helen had spotted three of her kids at the water balloon battle site and decided to leave a wobbly Galen on the skating rink on his own. He was getting steadier by the minute and didn’t need her anyhow. Buck had left for work shortly before.

                From a distance, Helen didn’t recognize the sim on Cyrus’ team, so she continued to get closer to figure out who it is.

                As the girl partially turned in order to put more power into a balloon thrown in Layla's general direction, Helen recognizes her and keeps walking with her face averted.

                None of the kids spot her as she walks on. 

                The two girls win the game handily. In fact, Layla comes out of it completely dry.

                As Cyrus and Olivia turn to go and get some food, Cyrus decides to have some fun with Phedra.

                Looking back over his shoulder, he calls: “You may have won this round, but remember, I was a gentleman. Now stands before you a pirate seeking his revenge. Best watch your step little sister, lest I run you through in your sleep.”

                “Oh, snap out of it,” Phedra sneers as Olivia suppresses giggles. “What are you going to do to me in my sleep? Snore, most likely.”

                With that she turns and flounces off to find the skeeball tables with her sister.

                Turning toward Olivia, Cyrus takes a moment to just look at her. He longs to grab her hands, just touch her silky skin. but knows he can’t. The longing makes his hands ache, his heart beat all the harder.

                “Sorry about that,” Cyrus apologizes. “I had to say something lame and smarmy so that she’d be sure to go the other way thinking she’s got the upper hand.”  

                “No,” Olivia reassures. “No, I get it. She’s pretty easy to figure out, isn’t she?”

                “Yeah,” Cyrus laughs a bit. “Yeah, she is pretty shallow. But she’s just a kid. She ages up in a few days and we might have some trouble with her. Maybe. Depends on if she stays that shallow.”

                Olivia chuckles.

                Noticing that she’s having a difficult time, too, Cyrus suddenly pulls out a bouquet he had been hoping to save until dark.

                “Go to the Prom with me,” Cyrus doesn’t ask. He demands. “We can meet at the school, pretend to go in, and ditch it. Whadda you say?”

                “Oh, Cy,” Olivia breathes. “Of course I’ll pretend to attend prom for you.”

                “Good,” Cyrus winks at her. “We’ll go somewhere just the two of us. It’ll be wonderful.”

                Olivia blushes once again, a reflex she has mastered and uses well.

                “Wonderful.”

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                Buck arrives home just before the majority of the kids do. He and the caretaker were in the middle of transplanting trees and he was dead tired from the digging and lifting. But his children try and try to tell him that he’s not tired, that he wants to hear all the stories they have from the festival.

                “-I was best at skeeball, Galen couldn’t even get one ball in the hole-”

                “-Should have seen me skating, I know you would have been proud, Daddy-”

                “-Rainbow shaved ice, and another flavor called snowstorm, or blizzard or-”

                In the midst of the clamor made by all three trying to tell their tales to Daddy at the same time, (Helen had had her ears yammered off on the ride home with the three of them,) Cyrus walks in. It’s still ahead of his curfew, but Buck can tell there is something different about the boy, something in how he walks, the lights in his eyes...

                “-I could have beaten her with a higher score, but… I thought I’d be nice this time-”

                “-There was music coming from nowhere all over the festival grounds and lots of people danced-”

                “-The music did not come from nowhere. There were speakers at the top of all those poles-“

                Buck attempted to turn to Cyrus. Cyrus was sure he was going to burst, he wanted to tell someone about Olivia so bad. He had wanted to tell someone for a long time, but knew he couldn’t. Now, spending time with her in such an exposed place, he was floating, going to fly away...

                “Will you pack-a-wolves quit yer yappin’…” Buck tried to shush his brood and see what had Cyrus looking so excited.

                Cyrus’ brain had finally caught up with him and he realized he was in dangerous waters standing where Buck could see him. Buck knew him better than anyone and would easily see his triumph. He'd always been able to read his face like an open book. Before Buck could get the little kids calmed down properly he turned and headed for his bed.

                “’Night, Dad,” Cyrus called over his shoulder as he went.

                “-I’m sure it did seem like the music was floating from nowhere, but it really was speakers up high on the poles… Cyrus, you okay Buddy?” Buck waved an impatient hand at Phedra who was dying to gloat.

                “Just a little tired. See you all in the morning.”

                The moment Phedra noticed that Buck was no longer in control of Cyrus she began.

                “I told you!”

                Buck’s attention caught, again, he finally managed to quiet the youngsters and shoo them off to bed.

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The pictures on the walls have all moved as I did a save game clean-up to get a little bit smaller save game size. That is all. ;)