“-is-”
“Chr-”
“Christopher.”
I groaned, trying to hide from the voice pulling me out of the only sleep I had gotten in ages. At least it felt that way.
“Christopher~” The voice was soft, a bit mumbled, as though its owner didn’t typically enunciate their words fully. I opened my eyes, finding myself face to face with a pair of bright green eyes. I jumped awake, causing the man to leap back in surprise.
“A little warning next time!” I huffed.
“I did!” he defended. “I called you like fifteen times. You were out like a light.”
“I-” I yawned. “Haven’t gotten sleep like that in a long time. What time is it? Where are we?” I distractedly mapped out Quinn’s features: his tan skin and tight curls, the way his lips part slightly, the slight red of his nose as though he was fighting off a cold, his long, dark lashes and smallish ears.
“It’s the afternoon. We’ve been in West Virginia for a while, but I think we’re lost. I couldn’t figure your gps out. That shit’s on the fritz.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “It acts up sometimes. Where are we?”
“A rest stop somewhere.”
“Great deduction skills chicken man.” I deadpanned, looking at the small building with restrooms and vending machines.
“Hell if I know bro.”
“Alright whatever. I’m using the bathroom and then I’m taking over.”
“My condolences for your ass. These restrooms are the worst.”
Well, he’s certainly right about that. But it did the job. It was nice to get a second of fresh air and movement in my legs, though. At least I’m not as hungover as I expected to be. I wonder if that’s a good or bad thing.
“You’re fucking short,” I quipped as I readjusted the driver’s seat and mirrors.
“You’re just tall,” Quinn grumbled.
“I’m five eleven. That’s average.”
I aggressively tapped at the gps until the screen stopped glitching. I retyped in the address and prayed it wouldn’t freak out again.
“So tell me more about this heist. Was it a spur of the moment kind of thing or was it more of a plan? Was it some spy shit or was security just shitty? I would think the latter in a town like that. What was the real motive? Money? Infamy? An excuse to get the fuck out of town?” I could definitely relate to that last one. I eyed him from the corner of my vision. Quinn didn’t appear at all to be a typical criminal. He fidgeted with his hands in his lap, wide eyes staring at the gray sky overhead.
“The necklace… no one really cared about it. No one’s going to miss it. In fact, the only reason the cops were after me was for breaking into the small museum by the church.” From the way he spoke to his body language, I could tell he wasn’t lying. Still, he wasn’t exactly answering the question either.
“So… was it a plan?”
“I guess. Sort of.”
It seems like that was all I was getting out of him for now, so I returned my attention to the road and turned on my music. Best not to pry. We all have our things I suppose. Speaking of which-
“You listen to metal?” Quinn asked with scrunched brows.
“Is that surprising?”
“No, actually.”
“If I hear one complaint-” I started with a growl.
“No, I didn’t mean-” Quinn began laughing. It was a light sound that made my chest tighten just a bit. It must have been from embarrassment. “I listen to this stuff too.”
“Oh,” I remarked dumbly.
“Divine Dead right?” he asked. I nodded. I could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. I didn’t expect you to listen to this shit. As if hearing my thoughts Quinn remarked, “Good shit. I don’t look like the kind of guy to listen to metal, right?”
“I was just comparing you to a puppy earlier.”
“Pfft I’m not that innocent.”
“For whatever reason I’m calling bullshit.”
“I’m officially on the run, you know.”
“You know, you would’ve been behind bars right now if it weren’t for me.”
“You’re right,” he nodded. “Now I have an accomplice too.”
“I’m starting to think maybe I shouldn’t have gotten that wrap.”
“Well you had a look in your eyes yesterday, that dead-inside look. And you don’t right now. So I consider that a win.” That didn’t sit with me well. Even if he was right and I did feel just a little bit not sad enough to want to die for one moment, I felt guilty. Like I betrayed Toby. Am I betraying him? It just feels wrong, living without him.
“Don’t pretend you know me,” was all I said. I meant for it to come out more threatening than it did. But, honestly i just sounded sad. Quinn must have heard it too because we ended up being quiet for the next hour or so, the silence feeling uncomfortably heavy between us.
Before I knew it, we were pulling up to a long driveway, past an open field with a few signs that pointed to a barn-looking brewery beside a cozy-looking house. Before the man beside me could open his mouth I turned and shot him a glare.
“You aren’t going to ask me any questions about this. Not about why I’m here or how long we’re staying. Not unless you want the next stop to be the nearest police station. Got it?”
I expected a playful jab or something of the sorts. But Quinn only nodded genuinely, eyes wide and tail wagging. Fucking pomeranian.
I rang the doorbell and waited. I rang it again. And again. Sighing, I fished out the key, wondering if this was going to work. Sure enough it did.
“Hello?” I called to the empty space as the door creaked open. I felt weird about just barging into someone’s home, as one should. So I took a step. Quinn followed silently.
“Hello?” I called louder. This time, someone answered back.
“Jake if that’s you I’m calling the fucking cops. When I say leave me alone I mean that sh-” A woman stepped out into the entrance of the house, down the steps. She had lighter skin than I was expecting, and wild ginger hair that stuck out everywhere. She was a bit older, but not old.
“Oh you’re not Jake.”
“Oh um,” I cleared my throat. “I’m Christopher. I- you might have heard about my arrival.” God this is awkward as hell. Still, the woman’s eyes lit up.
“Ah! Tobias’s boyfriend! He mentioned something a while ago about you needing a place to stay for a bit but- anyways, how is he? And who is this cute one?”
“This is Quinn. He’s a… coworker. He also needs a place to crash for a bit, I hope that’s ok.”
“I don’t care. It’s lonely being in this house alone all the time. It’s not every day I get visitors… that aren’t Jake. That sonovabitch can rot in hell.”
“About Toby… c-can we talk?” I looked at Quinn with pleading eyes. Thank god he’s not an asshole, seeing as he nodded and asked for the bathroom to give us some space.
“Sure, what’s up?” She asked as we entered the living room. I admired the cozy decorations as I tried to figure out how to tell her the truth without breaking down.
“Toby is-” I started. A lump in my throat kept me from going on. This is so dumb. I tried again.
“Toby-” I couldn’t seem to squeeze the words out. Come on Christopher. Just tell her already. He’s gone. He’s passed. He’s-
“Toby is-” my voice cracked. I kept pushing through, even though it felt like gravity was crushing me. “Toby is dead.” I erupted into full-on sobs. Fuck me. What am I? Two years old?
The woman’s eyes softened, filling with tears to match my own. She opened her arms and embraced me, rubbing my back the way a mother does her young child. I imagined it was my own mother comforting me, telling me it’ll be ok as I sniveled and sniffled and cried.
“I’m sorry,” I kept repeating. “I’m so sorry.” And the stranger just kept rubbing my back. Through the strange bond of shared heart-shattering grief, it seemed like we’ve known each other our whole lives.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she said with such confidence I would have believed it if I were any other person. But I’m not.
“H-H-He killed himself. If it’s not my fault, whose is it?” I wailed into her now-dampened shoulder. How lame to seek comfort from a stranger in the middle of a strange state so very far from home and yet I almost believe it every time she tells me it’ll be ok.
“Christopher-” she said softly, cupping my face with her large hands. “From what Toby has told me about you, you’ve been the light of his whole life since middle school. It’s not your life. You were just the most unfortunate person to experience it.”
“Was I not enough?” I asked desperately. She pinched my cheeks.
“Stop that. You out of anyone should know that it’s never that simply. If you’re going to blame anyone, blame his dipshit parents. Lord knows they could have done better.”
I nodded, wiping at my face. “My name’s Laurie by the way.”
“Thank you Laurie.”
“For what?”
“For giving me a place to stay for a bit, even though you barely know me.”
“Stop with that. We’re family now. And believe you me, I know more than I should about you,” She smiled teasingly. I cracked a small smile back, feeling surprisingly at ease with her.
“Now, Toby asked me to give something to you. I wasn’t too sure why but… now I have more of a clue. Stay here. I’ll be back.” I waited patiently as Laurie left and came back with a shoebox. It was then that I noticed a shadow lingering by the hallway before disappearing back into the shadows.
“Here, dear. Don’t worry, I haven’t looked inside or anything. It’s all sealed up.”
“Th-That’s ok. It’s not a big deal.”
“Of course it is! Some secrets are meant to be kept, kiddo. Anyways, I have two guest bedrooms. Why don’t you get settled in? I’ll start on dinner.”
“I can repay you, you know, for groceries and staying here.”
“Don’t be silly,” she smiled. “I enjoy the company. If you really want to repay me, you can help out with the brewery. It’s mostly just locals and they’re all nice. Except for Jake. He’s a piece of shit.”
I laughed smally, wiping at the remaining moisture on my lashes. “Thank you again, Laurie.”
“Thank me by eating dinner with your friend and I later. You look like a twig. I could break you in half if I squeeze just a little.”
“Ok,” I offered a smile before getting my luggage and making my way upstairs. The first door was cracked open. I kicked it in lightly only to find Quinn perched on the edge of the bed, like he was expecting me.
“Uh hi,” he greeted awkwardly. I know he was listening in before. Whether accidentally or on purpose, I just couldn’t bring myself to care. I’m tired.
"I’ll use the other bedroom,” I said, walking back out of the room.
“W-Wait!” he rushed to say. “About th- I didn’t mean- I mean I heard about but didn’t mean- about what happened, I’m sorry.” he sighed, hugging his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Whatever.” I need a hot shower and a beer. I couldn’t give a fuck what Quinn thinks. I have enough shit to sort out. If he turns out to be a homophobic asshole I’ll just turn him in.
I left everything in my suitcase except for a change in clothes. The shower was a hassle, but I figured it out. The box was left on the desk in the room. Some part of me dreaded opening it, dreading hearing his voice in my mind because I knew I could never forget it.
I opened a beer on the frame of the bed and chugged it in just a few gulps. If this were a high school party I’d be celebrated. But I guess being mentally unstable isn’t cool anymore. Not at this age.
After giving myself a pathetic pep talk, I snatched the box and crawled into bed, draping the sheets around my body. Even with my many layers of pjs on, I was still freezing. Hesitantly, my fingers popped off the lid.
Inside was a bundle of loose leaf paper next to a broken snow globe. It was the one I got him for Christmas, the tiny snowman beside his igloo. That same year I accidentally knocked it off the shelf when we were making out and the whole dome of glass shattered everywhere, liquid and glitter messing up the whole apartment. I think Toby cherished it even more after that. He told me I freed the snowman from his little glassy prison, and only at the price of our wooden floors in the living room.
I lifted the snow globe out of its box gingerly, stroking the rim of the object where the glass once was. The tiny snow person looked back at me, smiling as wide as ever as he stood beside his snow house, thanking me for the accidental liberation.
Lifetimes. It had to have been lifetimes ago.
Dear Christy,
I see you’ve won the freed snowman. You know that’s still one of my most prized possessions. I know you don’t get it yet. But I hope one day you will.
Have you met Laurie yet? She’s cool. She helped raise me before she moved to WV. She’s my godmother. And, frankly, more of a mother than mine ever was. She’ll treat you well, I know it.
You probably think this is cruel of me, making you relive every important memory I shared with you. And, honestly, you’d be right. I’m a cruel person. This is probably torture but I couldn’t help but do this. I’m scared of letting you go the way things are right now. I know your professors have been giving you shit and we’ve been arguing over the dumbest things lately. But I can’t stress it enough, none of this was your fault. I just didn’t know how to cope.
It’s almost funny. I’m more scared of you forgetting me than death itself. I guess that’s the real reason I’m doing this.
I hope you can forgive me. I certainly wouldn’t. So, of course, I can’t make you. But I do want you to both forgive and love yourself. I know I can’t make you do that either, but I hope to God you can find someone or something that can.
Two weeks. That’s how long you’ll spend here with Laurie. Your next stop is in Philadelphia. You’ll know it when you see it.
Sorry, got a little too sentimental in this one. Remember when we graffitied Clarissa’s Lexus? Mr. Roberts almost skinned us alive. Call it a depressive-induced nostalgic delirium, but I almost miss those high school shenanigans.
Next song. Daniel Johnston’s Walking the Cow. I know you’ll get it. Not in a way that words particularly describe. But you’ll get it.
Take a shower.
~Toby
I folded the letter back up and cracked open another beer. Fuck you, Toby. You son of a bitch. You bastard, rat ass, stupid pea-brain dumb fuck. Idiot fucking asshole shithead.
Why can’t I just stop loving you?
Of course I put the damn song on as I opened another beer. And of course I cried to it. And of course I ignored Laurie’s call for supper until there was a knock and the door suddenly swung open. And of course I just started crying harder when Laurie saw me being a little bitch. It was those ugly, hiccuping sobs as music played from my dying phone and my beer bottle was abandoned somewhere on the floor and my shaking hands clutched that stupid snowglobe to my chest with all the strength in my weak puny body.
She didn’t say a word as she sat next to me on the bed and opened her arms. Without my conscious awareness of it, I was already leaning into her, letting myself sink into that motherly warmth of a stranger, as if it were as natural as breathing.
How pathetic am I? Honestly. I’m so fucking tired. Of all of it, all of this. All of me. How do I make it stop hurting? I’m not strong, Toby. I’m not as strong as you thought.
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