We can go forget who we areJay looked like such an easy mark in the late evening sunlight so I kept walking, blinded by my own need to be somewhere that was different and comforting and safe and not with Lochlan or with the Devil either. Them arguing is hard enough, imagine trying to exist when they're getting along. They both get equal blame for how this started, before Lochlan grabbed my heart when Caleb wasn't looking and ran right out of the woods, off towards the lights of the midway in the distance.
I don't blame them anymore though. I just feel strange when they get along very well. They got along so well Caleb ended up having a two-night sleepover at the big house and I got a little overtired and a lot overstimulated and was thinking about building a treehouse because we have everything else and it unearthed a memory that doesn't change anything save to paint Lochlan as the one who stands idylly by while Caleb feasts on my bones.
That was never the case and it isn't the case now and I find myself with a opportunistic ear in August, who is home, all the lights on, the fan on the ceiling making a lazy loop and music on the stereo. enjoying a cold beer and some watermelon besides. A quiet evening I'm about to ruin with my fountain of words. Just as you think they're finished they cycle back around and pour out again, over the top to the pool below.
Want one? They're non-alcoholic. They're not even near beer, actually. It's more like ginger ale if you made it yourself.
I take one and he cracks the tab on it for me. I take a sip. Stupidly sweet. Good enough.
Can I fix you a plate?
I'm fine. I just want to be here right now. You don't even have to talk to me. And if you had plans just continue with them. I won't be in the way, I promise.
I was going to have a bath. With my fake beer and music and everything.
You can still do that. I'll go.
I'll delay it for an hour. How does that sound?
No. I don't know. Yes. Can I just sleep for a little bit?
Yeah. Sure. Help yourself. He indicates the bed on the ropes and gives it a gentle push. I'll wake you at eight to go home?
Okay.
Do you want to talk it out first?
Not really.
Then goodnight, Bridge. He takes the can from my shaky hands, kisses my forehead and heads down the hallway. I climb under the top blanket and am asleep in precious few seconds.