Last Names | Tyrus/Muffy

Part 9

TJ's POV

From two blocks away, I can see Cyrus waiting on a swing, gently pushing himself back and forth. He doesn't notice me, but I notice him, and it motivates me to walk twice as fast to close the gap between me and the empty swing next to Cyrus. The crunching of dry leaves under my feet alerts Cyrus of my arrival, and he looks over to see me and smiles as I sit down beside him.

"We've never met at this park before," Cyrus comments.

"Yeah," I respond. "It's the closest one to where my half-sister lives."

"It's also close to Buffy's house," Cyrus adds. "We used to come here a lot when we were younger."

I laugh uncomfortably, deciding I should stop putting off telling him the truth. It's never going to change, so I might as well just comes to terms with it.

"Yeah, there's a reason for that," I say. 

"What?" Cyrus asks, confused.

"Buffy is my half-sister," I disclose.

Cyrus' jaw drops automatically, and probably without him even noticing, as he stares at me, trying to work through what I just said. A few long seconds go by before he speaks again, starting in a stutter.

"So you're—she's—how?"

I begin explaining through everything my mother told me about the situation, falling into a ramble. My words become so constant that all Cyrus can do is listen, unable to sneak any of his own thoughts in until I finally finish and take a deep breath to regain the air I've just drained with my explanation. 

"That explains why she's been so on edge recently," Cyrus says. "I knew she wasn't telling us something. And it makes sense now why she was avoiding me whenever I was with you."

"Doesn't she always do that?" I question.

"Yeah, but not to the same degree."

I don't know how true that is. Buffy always wants to leave whenever I show up, but I also never talk to her, so I guess I don't know exactly how poorly she views me. Cyrus is her best friend, so he'd know her better. Sometimes I find it astounding how he could be friends with me while his best friend calls me her enemy. That seems to break some kind of best friend rule, but Cyrus doesn't care, and I don't understand it. 

"I'm surprised you can still want to be friends with me, knowing how much she hates me," I say.

Cyrus looks at me with eyes that seem to glow their own sunset light. 

"I think it surprises me sometimes too," he responds, letting a soft smile cross his face. "But it also surprises me that someone like you would even consider being friends with someone like me."

"Someone like me?"

"Yeah," he says. "Confident, cool, attractive."

I smile a little, feeling myself blush at the compliment. "Underdog, I'm only confident around you. Usually, I'm much more of a mess."

"Well, there's something we have in common," Cyrus says with a chuckle. 

I feel my face burn even hotter, and I turn my head away to try to hide the redness from the boy who caused it. Instead, I catch sight of a large fountain beyond the playground. It sprays up then drops down onto a concrete ground where I imagine people must play in the summer, letting themselves be pelted by the water. 

"I've never seen a fountain like that before," I comment. 

"I used to come here to play in it with Buffy and Andi a lot when I was younger," Cyrus says.