Pay the Sun

One

Trigger warning: this story discusses things that may be triggering, so read only if you're in a good place

On the first official day of summer break, I am dragged to my aunt's wedding reception. I don't particularly like my aunt- neither do my parents, for the record- but my dad has this thing about family where he thinks we need to be all up in each other's business. So, I'm here, whether I want to be or not.

The venue is small, one of the ones in the old part of town. The walls badly need plastered and a paint job, likely due to the smoking that went in here during the seventies. The chandeliers need dusted and the floor needs buffing, but I suppose that this place was far cheaper to rent than anywhere else nearby. My aunt is pretty stingy.

I mill around the room, chatting to all my relatives and introducing myself to my aunt's friends and coworkers. I'm not entirely sure how I'm related to most of these people. I only make brief conversation, small talk that no one is really into, but it passes the time as I don't have anything else to do while here since the food hasn't been served yet. I don't mind conversing, but I'd rather be talking to a potential new friend rather than relatives.

It takes me an hour to make my way through the whole room and I search for my parents, only to find them knee deep in conversation. Dad's talking buoyantly to Todd, who I know he doesn't like. My mom's chatting with Aileen, the only person that she's ever hung out with outside family things.

I take the opportunity to slip outside and smoke a cigarette in the parking lot. One of my cousins (I call him a coursin, but all I know is that we're somehow related) is outside sitting on his parents' car with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. It takes me a moment to recall what his name is, since I haven't seen his face for a while. I'll never forget him, though.

"Hey, Aaron," I greet, popping a cigarette into my mouth and pulling my lighter out of the pocket of my dress pants.

Aaron's almost twenty now, if I'm correct, and he's grown to look like a teddy bear, all fat and no edges. We share a head of natural curly, red hair. I like him a lot better now that he's older, but every time I look at him I still think about the time we fought when we were kids. He must have been thirteen or so, and I was about ten, and he threatened me with a knife so I beat him with a tree branch until he cried. Ah, fun times. At least we've both grown out of our violent phases.

"Julian." He nods, taking another drag on his cigarette. "I see you've gotten hooked, too."

I shrug. "I know it's bad. You don't have to go on that whole spiel."

"I know, too. I think people who smoke know how bad it is, but it's harder to stop than it seems. I've been trying, but it's pretty stressful in there."

"Don't like crowds?"

Aaron shakes his head. "Makes me anxious."

I nod sympathetically.

"You too?" he asks.

"No, I like talking to people. I just don't really like talking to family too much."

"Oh."

I smile at him, blowing smoke out of my nose. "I didn't mean you."

"I know who you meant."

"Good."

We both stand there smoking cigarettes for a few more minutes. Aaron tells me about his job at the fancy grocery store and eventually, he starts to head back inside. He falters at the edge of the parking lot and glances back at me.