Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Chapter 1.30- Noon-3pm Friday

Chapter 1.30-Extra Verbs

            Four steps to the sink. 20 seconds if she doesn’t give into impatience and rush it. When she rushes it she thinks faster. It means she’s more agitated at that moment.
            *thump thump thump


Four steps to the fridge with a measured pace. A too large pace puts her too close and she can’t turn without her sleeve brushing the cold steel. For whatever reason, this seems to unbalance her making her totter as she turns. Then she’s angry at herself for not slowing down. Well... angrier.
            *thump thump thump


            Four steps is all it takes before she’s back again. Four steps.
            Buck has decided that to live with women you must have the patience of Job. And he does his best to imitate a rock. He’d do a better job if he’d quit knocking the cabinet door with his left boot heel.
            *thump thump thump


            She’s paced wordlessly for an hour now and Buck’s patience is wearing thin. The little ones will be home soon, and he needs to know what has her so upset over the call she made to the school. They’ve got to come up with something to tell Galen and Layla about Phedra and Cyrus, why Phedra didn’t go to school.
            *thump thump thump



            “Helen,” Buck finally interrupts her reverie. It’s time.
            Abruptly, she turned, her face screwed up, her palms pressing her temples tightly. She paces slowly back toward the fridge.
            “He’s gone,” she whispers.
            Buck has nothing to say. He just blinks, waiting for her to explain.
            *thump thump thump


            Buck shifts his weight, finally placing his left foot silently on the floor.
            “He got arrested last night. And I got mad. REALLY mad. And I went and picked him up. You slept through it. The phone call from the police. On the way my anger just built. I’d been meaning to do it for a while. Now seemed like a good time. He was going to be grounded anyway. But it was time to end it. It can’t happen anymore. It’s not right. He doesn’t know what her mother is like. She’s probably like that too. And then, obviously, I forgot he had those books. He must have run to her.”
            That didn’t help. Buck wouldn’t never be able to untangle any of that and she should know it.


            “Sweetheart,” Buck had let her pace in peace for a few moments. “Sweetheart I’m going to need a few nouns please. Possibly some extra verbs, too. I slept through something last night. That’s all I got.”
            “You slept through Cyrus getting arrested for breaking into the school and attempting to set all the frogs free. The frogs Phedra has been so worried about? The ones they were going to dissect? I answered the call from the police station at 1 this morning.”


            Buck had had a weight in the pit of his stomach since his talk with Phedra. Now he felt as though someone had hit him in the face with something large and heavy.
            “A few weeks ago I found out he’d been seeing Lily Pad’s daughter, Olivia. Lily Pad had even made the girl promise not to have anything to do with Cyrus when she found out. But it had continued.”


            “In the car, on the way to pick him up, I decided I’d have to do the same as Lily Pad.”
            Helen sighed heavily. Buck was getting alarmed. The direction this was taking would lead nowhere good.


            Helen continued to pace as she spoke. “The Lieutenant said we have to agree to pay for the damage, and Cyrus has to write a letter of apology to the school board and administration. Then he has to read it aloud displaying proper remorse and will still possibly be suspended. But he won’t be charged if he does it all, and does it well.”
            To Buck, it felt kind of like a rope where the knots are the type you just pull the ends to make it disappear. Things were starting to line up, and he was starting to worry worse than ever.


            “When we got home,” Helen said. “When we got home I let loose on my anger a little bit. Informed him he was grounded, never going to get to see Olivia again, and not to put a toe out of line or I’d ship him off to boarding school.”
            Thinking he’s going to be sick, Buck feels the blood drain from his head. The secret he’s seen in Cyrus’ eyes. He had a girl. It was the look of a man secure in his conquest. Confident and Assured. That was the look. He should have known. And Helen should never have forbid him from seeing his girl.
            “I didn’t know he had the notebooks. I didn’t know that he would look through them, and see-“ Helen’s voice broke, and she gave in for a moment.
 

            “And when I called the school to excuse Phedra,” Helen stopped and stood still for the first time. “They informed me that Cyrus wasn’t there either. And she put me on hold to talk to the attendance officer. He’s been skipping classes for months now.”
            Eyes unseeing, Buck let his shoulders go slack. Her whisper came back to him. ‘He’s gone.’
            What kind of a head start did he have? Where would he go? He’d be aging up in just a day or so. Could they even find him in time? What would they say to him? Would he even want to see them?


            Focus returned at Helen’s broken sob.
            Helen had pushed Cyrus right over the edge. You can’t take away what is most precious when you’re already in over your head. Cyrus would have felt betrayed by Helen, and Buck can almost agree with it. Almost.
            Realizing that he’s blaming Helen hurts. But she’s hurting worse, because she knows that she did it.
            “We’ll have to find him,” her whisper was tortured.


            Standing squarely in front of her, Buck forced her to look up. To look at him. When she opened her lips to say something, he silenced her with a finger.
            “No,” shaking his head, whispering to try and hide the emotion behind his words. “No, we won’t find him in time. He ages up in just a few days. He’s embarrassed, and hurt. We won’t find him.”


            “But he’s got to read the letter to the school board or they’ll pre-“
            Folding her closer to him, he shakes his head again. He doesn’t need words.
            Swallowing hard, Helen’s eyes dart between his. Has she really lost her baby boy? Will he really be lost to her?
            Sighing, Buck frowns, ducking his head. When he looks at her again, he can only meet her eyes for a fleeting moment.


            This time, it’s Helen who moves closer. She can see. She’s failed him too.
            Slowly, Buck reaches up and gently pats her back.



            He hasn’t had tears in his eyes for years. Today has been too much, though, and letting them out is a relief.
            Unfortunately, his grief is going to linger. Cyrus was as much a son to him as Galen. And in some ways he related to Cyrus more. Galen was into technology that was over Buck’s head. Cyrus just wanted to fish, just like Buck.
            And memories of times spent with Cyrus flood his mind making it so much worse.


            Helen feels his release. Feels the second wave, so much worse than the first, and tightens her hold.
            It’s all her fault.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- 

             I cried like a baby writing these last few chapters. Doing that to Buck hurt. Doing it to Phedra was a bitch. Doing it to Cyrus was just plain cruel. Doing it to Helen? Meh. Lol. J/k. I love Helen.
For the record: This arc was also partly inspired by this awesome bit by one of my favorite artists:


There are no lyrics. And actually the picture is pretty accurate for both Helen and Buck this chapter. It was a bit of a surprise to use one of his (Simon Green is Bonobo) songs for this. In general, the music I use to hear Helen and Buck is heavy on Eric Clapton and Mychael Danna with touches of Hans Zimmer and Moby. (I'm weird. I know.) But I needed this melancholy touched with the effervescence of memories of happier times to get the tone right. It's also a very simply melody. And this scene is just that.
However, Generation 2 is totally tuned into Bonobo and I.Can't.WAIT.


Spoilery bits: We'll see Cyrus again another time much later in the story. When that happens, I'll let him tell his tale. Apart from that, I do believe that we're almost at rock bottom. So hopefully I can let them start healing soon.

Monday, February 4, 2013

Chapter 1.29-6am-Noon Friday

Chapter 1.29- Her Daddy

            The next morning begun as had any other. Only this morning came with glaring exceptions to the rule. Helen was still in bed soundly sleeping, and Galen discovered that Cyrus had already left for school. Those awake had presumed that he was excited for the science fair that day and had left early.
            The four remaining members of the Sixkiller household sat for breakfast. Phedra was quiet and simply pushed her food around on her plate. It was a relief when Buck told her to quit trying to put food into her nervous stomach and go on and get ready for school. Layla followed her into their shared room to make her own bed and get dressed.
            Buck was just thinking how odd it was that Helen was still asleep so late in the morning when a scream tore the peaceful atmosphere to shreds. Turning to the sound, he saw Layla running out of the girls’ room wide-eyed.



            “Daddy!” Layla panted as she neared. “Daddy! Come quick! Something’s wrong with Fay! Something’s wrong with Fay! Come quick!”
            It took a lot to rattle Phedra or Layla. Neither girl was afraid of insects, and his brain could supply nothing else that might be in the room that could have frightened Phedra enough to elicit such a reaction as that cold scream.


            Running into the room he saw Phedra on the floor on her knees. Was she hurt?
            “Phedra?” Buck asked, panting. “Phedra, what’s wrong honey?”


            He received no answer, just another miserable shriek of sobs.
            Buck’s eyes darted around the room. He spotted nothing other than a few school notebooks on the floor in front of his distressed daughter.


            Hearing the blare of the bus horn he turned to Layla. “Go,” he told her sternly.
            Layla had opened her mouth to protest, she wanted to know what was wrong, too.
            “Go, go now.” Buck cut across her attempted protest.
            Pouting, Layla left.


            Phedra shifted her position somewhat; her sobs deep, quiet now.
            Buck stayed standing, trying to puzzle through what could have rattled her so.
            “Phedra? Please Honey. Please, tell me what’s wrong,” Buck felt tears touch his own eyes. Something was very wrong, and she just looked and sounded- broken.
            “It’s all wrong. All wrong,” Phedra’s words were nothing more than a throaty whisper barely choked out.


            Realizing this was going to take more than a moment or two, Buck finally sat down opposite Phedra.
            Quietly, he stared at her a moment. Letting a renewed outbreak of shrieking subside into the same quiet yet deep sobs as earlier before he spoke again.
            “What’s all wrong?”
            “Everything,” Phedra choked out. “Everything. It’s all wrong.”


            Buck let her sob a few more minutes in peace. He heard the bus drive on, but ignored it. At least three kids were taken care of and out of the way so he could focus on the little girl in front of him.
            “Phedra, honey,” he tried again, softly, trying to control his own emotion. “What all is everything?”


            “I-I’m not,” she sobbed. “I’m- You-You-You’re not-“ Finally, she gave up for a moment, letting her weeping overcome her attempted words.
            Buck longed to scoop her up into his arms and cuddle her, but she wasn’t a baby any longer and her excessive display was almost frightening to him. He was scared to get any closer to her.


            Finally, Buck glanced at the notebooks. He had expected to see Phedra’s handwriting across the front. Maybe it was school stress finally catching up to her.
            But, instead, he saw Helen’s neat script. Peering closer he finally understood what had her so upset. He and Helen had been discussing sitting down the two teenagers and having a frank discussion with them regarding their parentage, but the right moment had never presented itself and they were so afraid of what their reactions would be. So afraid of how the kids would possibly judge them.
            Buck closed his eyes as his throat tightened, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He had really messed up.
            “Oh, baby,” he whispered back to her. “Baby Girl I’m so, so sorry.”


            At his apology, Phedra’s head sank lower on her chest. Her sobs deepening as she took in his confession to her.
            Buck adjusted himself. Might as well get comfortable. Obviously they were going to be here awhile.


            They sat not speaking for an eternity. Buck’s head swam with words, with things he longed to tell her. But everything he came up with sounded cliche and insincere. It was too late now to start where the explanation should have started. Now he had no idea where to begin.
            “I don’t quite know what te tell ya,” Buck’s accent thick through his own emotion. “Do you have a place ter start? Somethin’ yer wantin’ te ask?”


            Phedra raised her head slightly, delicately catching a single tear on the tip of her finger. All Buck noticed was she wouldn’t look at him directly. Another tear escaped his eye.
            “Why didn’t we know sooner?” she finally whispered, frowning deeply.
            “We been discussin’ speakin’ with ya’ll fer a while now,” Buck said. “The time never seemed right. Ya been studyin’ so hard te keep up with school. We didn’t wanna add more stress te ya.”


            “I should have known a long, long time ago,” Phedra reproached him. “When I was a child-“ Again, she choked on her sobs.
            “We should have been told when we were kids,” she was finally able to add. “I’ve always wondered about my hair, about my eyes. Why they were different from the photos of Mom’s family. I wondered why Cyrus has such a different shaped face from you or Mom and her family. And the more I’ve been researching biology, genetic heredity, the worse my questions became. And when I asked-“
            She stopped. Her sobs overcoming any words she could have come up with for a little bit.


            Buck sighed heavily. He could see where this was going. He was going to have to get Helen up and in here. Her questions were not for the man who wasn’t biologically related to her. Her questions went in a direction he could not give answers to. But he still had something to say. Something she needed to hear.
            “Ok, Baby,” Buck changed to a squat, hoping she’d look at him again. “I get that I don’t have the answers. But before I leave this room ya have to listen to me fer a moment.”
            Phedra lowered her head further, shuddering as she attempted to draw a clean breath. Finally, she succumbed again to renewed weeping, drawing herself into a ball once more. Trying to shield herself from whatever fresh hurt was coming her way.


            Buck fought his own emotion, his lips and throat working as he blinked rapidly. In the end he shook his head and decided that she needed to hear his own distress.
            “Baby girl,” he struggled to get out. “I don’t care what those papers say. I don’t care who gave you 'is genes. I don’t care if ya never call me Daddy again. But I have always loved you as my own. I have always looked at you as though you were my daughter. I’ve never even considered thet nature says you don’t belong to me. I couldn’t. You mean the world to me as my daughter. You mean no more and no less to me than Galen and Layla. You are my little girl. Mine. And I will love ya as I always have. As my own.”
            He swallowed hard, looking back at the notebooks for a moment.


            “I love you so much,” he choked out, sniffing, frowning. “So so very much. You are and will always be my Fuzzy little Phedra.”
            He paused, breathing out a single sob. “I’m so very sorry I let you down. I can only hope one day you can forgive me.”
            Standing. He sighed, tears coursing down his weathered cheeks. “Please forgive me.”
            Phedra broke down into renewed shrieks, burying her head in her knees. She heard Buck leave, closing the door softly.


            Again, much later, her cries lessened. Again, her door opened. Only this time Helen entered, leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front of her protectively.
            For a moment, she just stood, watching Phedra.
            “So,” she sighed. “So you know that Buck isn’t your DNA donor.”
            Phedra snarled into her knees at the words. How disgusting her mother’s words sounded to her.
            “You may not like how that sounds as much as you like, but it’s the truth. The man who is your biological father is a pathetic man who can’t even be bothered checking up on the kids he does know he has.”


            Helen crossed to the bed, taking a seat on it, contemplating her daughter.
            Phedra raised her head a little, taking in only part of her mother’s words.
            “He doesn’t know about me? Then you can hardly blame him for not taking an interest!”
            “Phedra,” Helen said with a trace of exasperation. “You didn’t listen to everything I said. Even the kids he knows he has, he does nothing for. Their mothers are left to raise them as best they can without him or his assistance.”
            “I have siblings?”
            Helen frowned at Phedra reproachfully, making the girl curl up in a tighter ball.
            “Cyrus, Galen and Layla don’t count since you don’t share a father, hmm?”
            “Who is he?”


            Finally, Helen’s face showed remorse.
            “His name is Trenton Pink. He’s Zazzy’s half brother, and you’ve probably seen him around town. His hair is similar to Galen’s. Similar, not exactly like it though. You have his eye color.”
            “Why?”
            Helen took a deep breath. She’d never wanted to tell her kids any of this; any of the mistakes she had made before Buck had swooped in and rescued her.
            “I was young and stupid and didn’t realize what I had right under my nose.”


            Phedra glanced up, swiftly giving her an irritated look before looking away again.
Helen took the hint. Nodding sorrowfully, she spun her sordid tale, beginning with how she had seduced her algebra teacher while in high school. How she had run when she found out she was pregnant with Cyrus. How she had met Buck, how they had assisted each other, stuck together, fought with each other, and grown dependent on the other.


How she had met Trenton who, to her, had seemed so knowledgeable. How he had flattered her, and how she had never heard from him again after he had used her. How Buck had been there to take the place of a man who never would have taken care of her in the same way.


            The story finished, the two sat in silence for a while. Helen, miserably. Phedra, thoughtfully.
            Phedra’s stomach was still queasy and upset, but her emotion had spent itself out allowing her to think through everything she had learned that morning. At least Cyrus was in the same boat with her. That much was a comfort. She would have to thank him when he got home from school. She was now several hours late, and didn’t think she’d be able to function correctly even if she was there.


            Finally, Helen spoke.
            “Did, um,” her voice was tight with emotion, though she allowed none of it to slip. “Did Cyrus say anything to you when he gave you the notebooks?”
            “I didn’t see him,” Phedra told Helen, deadpan. “He had slipped them under my pillow with a note. I guess he went to school early so he didn’t have to confront you about it.”
            Helen nodded, frowning.
“Ok,” she said. “Do you have any other questions?”
Phedra shook her head. Returning her unseeing gaze to the wall opposite.
Helen nodded again.
“Phedra, honey?”
This time, it was Phedra’s turn to nod.
“I love you sweetie. And Buck does too,” She paused, taking a deep breath. “And I’m so very sorry. So sorry we didn’t tell you and Cyrus sooner. You both deserved to know a long time ago.”
Phedra pursed her lips, nodded.
Helen stood, making a helpless gesture toward Phedra before hugging herself and leaving the room.


            Phedra sat in silent contemplation, glad for the renewed solitude.
            Slowly, the tears started again. Though, this time, they weren't accompanied by sobs. Silent tears flowing as evidence of the turmoil inside.
            It was so much to take in all at once. She may have been crying, yet she also felt numb.


            Looking around her room for nothing in particular her gaze finally landed of the photo of Buck passed out in fright over a fire.
            She chuckled, surprising herself that she could feel even a little lightness.


            Buck. Always there. He had always taken care of her and Cyrus. She would never have known without the notebooks. That’s how good of a job he had done as a father.
            She looked back at the notebooks with a deep sigh.
            At least she knew now. At least the confusion over her hair and eyes was over.


            At least she still had Buck. Her Daddy.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

            And of course, there’s still more fallout to come. Sorry.

This is partly based on what happened to a cousin of mine. He had taken in his new wife's infant daughter when they married (she was pregnant with H when they met) and raised her as his own. It wasn't until he and H's mother went into a custody battle during their divorce when H was 15 years old (The custody dispute was mostly over her younger siblings) did she find out that she was not my cousins daughter. She is still very close to my cousin, though, and still considers him her father.

Saturday, February 2, 2013

Chapter 1.28- 3-6am Friday morning

Chapter 1.28-A Thousand Pieces




            Trembling, Cyrus changed into his pajamas. Tears were coursing down his round cheeks. What a horrible night!
            Finally, putting his head in his hands he did his best not to scream from the misery.


            His legs about to give way out of exhaustion, he climbed on top of his bed giving way to silent tears.
            The notebooks his mother had thrown at him he had carefully laid on the nightstand. She had forgotten them in her anger. But Cyrus hadn’t. He used them to prove to himself what a responsible person he really was. He had carefully lined them up, laying them gently down before allowing himself to give in. Before he’d changed his clothes even.


            Cyrus rocked back on his heels, his quiet sobs still making his thin shoulders heave.
            He never should have attempted such a stunt. Never. But as he had seen it he had no other alternative. Now, he wasn’t sure what he could do, and sunrise was only a few hours away and then his problems were merely compounded.


            Trying to breathe a little more deeply to help himself stop weeping he sat back, curling into a ball.
            Galen slept through it all. Peaceful and unaware of tension in his own room.
            Cyrus was so thankful the officers had bought his story, even more thankful that the principal had. But even if he followed through with the principal’s order to write a letter of remorse, after tomorrow afternoon it would all unravel anyway. And then he would be shipped off to boarding school.


            He would never have let Phedra know if he could have helped it. But she had seemed to be on his side, not wanting to go through with the dissection. It could have been so perfect, his cover intact, his mother never knowing that there was so much more going on. If only he had successfully released the frogs, he’d still have the only person who could comfort him right now. He’d still have his Olivia.


            Olivia would understand. She’d know that he had been doing it for her all along.
            For quite some time now, Cyrus hadn’t been attending his AP biology class. His class was scheduled at the same time as Olivia’s free period. 
            The first time he skipped, it had been a thrill, a rush. Though he had had to work extra hard to make up for the absence he found he could do it.
            The second time was worse than the first time. He had almost been sure that the teacher would have noticed a pattern; knowing that he was at school, just not in his class. But the teacher hadn’t reported it.


            And so Cyrus had skipped to hang out with Olivia a third time, which was quickly followed by a fourth. Then he had gotten extra bold. It was then that Cyrus began to skip consecutive days of class. It was at this point that he began to lag behind in work.
            Then the guilt had struck, and he couldn’t face the teacher anymore knowing that he was officially failing a class. And so he had just never gone back.
            He wasn’t prepared for tomorrow’s science fair. Well, technically today’s now.


Attempting to release the frogs had been a final attempt to hide his guilt from the world. It was his effort to cover it all up one last time. It was a final act.
He could only imagine the look on Phedra’s face when she found out he hadn’t been attending class. The triumph she’d display at home. She’d never let him forget that in the end, truly, it was she who was the better sim.
And the more he sat and thought on it all his guilt melted away, replaced by resentment towards his younger sister and his mother.


            His mother had never paid the same attention to him that she’d paid to Phedra. It had fueled her desire to best Cyrus in everything he had attempted. A desire of hers that drove him nuts. Why couldn’t she just leave him alone? Why couldn’t she be her own sim?
            If he wasn’t constantly trying to thwart Phedra’s attempt on his sanity and place in the world maybe he wouldn’t have felt the need to take a break from class. Spending it with Olivia was simply convenient. It wasn’t the only time he could have taken. He could have just as easily have lied about participating in a club after-school and used that time with Olivia instead.
            Well… no… he couldn’t have. Her mother made her come straight home in an effort to ensure that she didn’t spend time with Cyrus. Lily Pad had banned Olivia from seeing Cyrus quite some time ago.
            Why were parents so stupid? Why did they have such stupid rules?


            Intending to glare at the only instance of his stupid mom and her stupid rules in his room he looked at the notebooks on the nightstand.
            In a neat feather-light script they were all labeled. “Important Documents-Identification, Birth Certificates” on one, “Important Documents-Travel” on another, and “Important Documents-Wedding, Death, Adoption” on the last.
            It was this last one that had him especially curious. Adoption? Had Helen had a sibling who was adopted?
            His curiosity aroused, fueled by the adrenaline still pumping through his veins after the events of the night, he grabbed the third notebook leaving the other two on the desk.
            Flipping it open, eyes alight, it took a moment to get through the wedding and death papers.
            He hadn’t known Helen had a sister. He had known about William and Peter, there were pictures of her brothers around the house. But Bernadette was not pictured and had never even been mentioned. Looking closer at the document, it looked like she had died of an illness a few years ago. Peter was listed on the certificate as a surviving relative along with Helen.
            Still flipping, wondering if it wasn’t this Bernadette who was the adoption mentioned, he finally found the dedicated section.


            At first, he thought he was going to be sick. What he was reading could not be true.
            Not wanting to believe it he grabbed the first notebook, flipping through it with such violence that Galen grunted in his sleep at the increased noise.
            Cyrus continued. He couldn’t stop just for Galen. Finding the paper he was looking for he sat back heavily on the bed, rocking. Goosebumps erupted in waves down his body. His breathing ragged, gasping, shallow.
            He never could have believed it. Never. No.
            How could he never have known? And… wait.
            Grabbing the notebooks once more he tore through them furiously again, lining them up on his bed to cross check and reference. Names. Dates. Times. His cheeks burned. Ears flaming as his nostrils flared. Tears again snaking their way down his pale cheeks.
            Suddenly, he jumped up. Putting his clothes back on, he grabbed his backpack opening it with a *rrrrrip of the zipper. Throwing its contents hastily under the bed he pulled a few sets of clothes at random out of their drawers and threw them into the freshly emptied bag. Only when he stood back up, peering at the notebooks did he stop.
            Staring hard, he threw the bag back down. Diving under his bed he resurfaced with paper and pen. Using the notebooks as a writing surface he scribbled a hasty note before tidying the books back up.
            As he exited his room he quietly deposited his bag by the front door, heading for the girls room across the still and dark living room, clutching the notebooks as a life-line.


            Carefully, quietly, he slipped into the girls room. Tiptoeing to Phedra's bedside, slowly, gently, he slid the books under her pillow, leaving them peeking just enough to draw her attention in the morning.
            Praying that Fay makes her own bed the next morning, not Helen, he crossed back to the door pausing only a moment to look at the picture of Buck on the wall. The only person he’ll truly miss.


            It was just past dawn when Cyrus left the house, locking the door behind him. He checked to make sure no one else was about, then hurried off to find Olivia.
            Once he had reached her home, he’d thrown pebbles at her window until she’d peered out, waved, and disappeared again.
            It was only moments between her disappearance at the window and her reappearance at the door, but the intervening time was agony to Cyrus. He was sure she’d be caught by her mom.
            Once she was out of the door enough, a gentle smile on her face, Cyrus grabbed her, almost knocking her over.
            “Cyrus? Whatever is the matter?” she asked coyly, thinking this was a new game for the lovers to play.


            “Everything,” Cyrus replied, shaking her a little to get her to realize how serious he is. “It’s all wrong. Everything. I’ve been arrested, home, been forbidden to see you and now I don’t even know who I am.”
            Olivia pouted at him. He made no sense to her.
            “Really, Liv,” Cyrus said, urgency in his voice. They were losing time. “I don’t know who I am! Buck’s not my dad, Phedra’s not my sister like I thought she was, nothing is the same!”


            “What do you mean?”
            “I mean that Buck isn’t my dad.”
            Olivia was confused. She thought he knew. Lily Pad had told her ages ago. Then it finally clicks.
            “Oh, Cyrus,” she breathed.


            “Run away with my Liv,” Cyrus’ voice was just as breathy, though more full of emotion. He was nearing tears again, and she could see it. “Now, Liv. Right now. Run away with me. Leave it all behind and let’s be together. Right now.”
            For a moment she was torn. But the hurt look and tears swimming in his eyes did the trick. She nodded.
            “Right now,” She answered.


            The tears started again in earnest as they turn away from her house. Putting her arms around him, she guided him to the street.


            Cyrus can hardly hold himself together anymore, and so leans on Olivia as he resumes weeping. He’s going to break. A thousand pieces of him strewn on the lawn and then no more.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --



            A few hours later:


The sun is properly up, and so is Phedra. Bounding out of bed she’s ready for the science fair and a chance to show just how smart she really is. It’s also another chance to show up Cyrus one more time.
            Nothing can stop her this day… nothing at all.


-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --


            Aaaaand… Phedra is next chapter. ;D

I LOVE the final pose of Olivia and Cyrus. So bittersweet. </3