The Boy That Broke America

0.13

0.13

SYLVIA HUGHES' CAR was, in fact, awesome. The 1957 BMW 507 was a classic, albeit redone to make sure it didn't fall apart with the mere shift of a gear stick. Lane was sure, had she any real knowledge of or appreciation for cars, she would appreciate the hell out of this one.

Ivor's expression of awe matched one Lane had seen countless times in relation to this car, and she smiled to herself in amusement at how easily impressed he was – a fact which she could admit still surprised her.

"This is epic," He breathed as he lightly touched the deep green exterior.

"It won't be for long if you leave fingerprints all over the damn thing." Sylvia smirked, a bewildered looking employee trailing after her with their bags.

Ivor blushed deeply in embarrassment, and the flush lingered all the way back to the house.

Lane still felt at home in Pittsburgh – despite that fact she had no active memories of living there. It was funny the way nostalgia worked like that; it could root itself inside of you for no reason other than to bring you back to your realest self.

The air was crisp as they stepped out of the car, Sylvia still quizzing Ivor on his life as they entered the foyer and she poured them three steaming cups of coffee.

"Jeez, Sylv, you're giving Graham Norton a run for his money with all these questions." Lane quipped over the edge of her mug.

"Well, I need something to keep me entertained these days!" She retorted, "It's not exactly like you're frequently visiting, my dear."

"Touché, touché."

Sylvia frowned slightly, "Now, why is it you're visiting, exactly? As much as I'd love to think it's all about seeing your dear old grandma, this road trip thing you mentioned doesn't exactly seem like your usual cup of tea." She raised a quizzical eyebrow.

(She tried not to feel bitter she hadn't inherited that skill)

Lane sighed, placing her coffee cup back on the bench. "We're going to California. I need to visit Dad, and Ivor wanted to see some more of America, but mostly because we're going to a wedding."

"A wedding?"

"Rhys Conner. He's getting married on the 16th."

Sylvia blinked blankly for a second or two. "Now, that is unexpected." She sipped her coffee thoughtfully, "A winter wedding? No exactly Nadia Conner's style."

Lane laughed lightly, grateful for her grandmother's classic injection of humour and frivolity into an otherwise acidic conversation. It was no lie that the whole thing was a surprise – to Lane and everyone else who knew Rhys. He wasn't the married-young type (if there was such a thing as a 'type' for marriage), and he certainly wasn't the surprise-marriage type. The whole thing left a sharp tinge in Lane's mouth, a feeling like the world had shifted just a few degrees off its axis and she couldn't quite put her finger on what was out of place.

She hadn't even realised she'd be staring into space until Ivor's laugh brought her back to the real world.

"Now, I have to pop out and run a few errands, but I'll be home in a couple hours. You know the drill – make yourself at home, what's mine is yours, etcetera etcetera." Sylvia swept towards the front door.

With the click of the latch, Ivor turned to Lane. "Out of curiosity, why do you call her Sylvia and not, like, grandma?"

"She never wanted to be called anything like that," Lane shrugged, "Said it made her feel old or some cliché like that."

"Fair enough. So, what does the day hold for us? I know you're the Queen of New York, but you can't be the Queen of Pittsburgh too."

Lane laughed, "I'm not sure I'd want to be the Queen of Pittsburgh, to be fair. However, I do know my way around pretty well."

...

The view over Downtown Pittsburgh was no New York, but to give it its due, was still pretty spectacular. Lane and Ivor wandered the streets of Mount Washington along to the park, debating the age-old arguments of Austen versus Brontë, and the more contemporary Cadbury versus Hershey's.

(The occasional less-intellectual debate popped up too)

(Would you rather hands for feet or feet for hands?)

They settled on a bench overlooking the city, cheeks red and tight from the cold, and they were enjoying the view before Ivor ruined the moment.

"So," He began tentatively, "I know it was a while ago now, but you've been super busy and, to be honest, a little wired with stress, so I didn't wanna bring it up, but..."

"Spit it out, Ivor." Lane smirked, concealing the bubble of anxiety in her chest.

(Who could enjoy a conversation starting like that?)

He breathed out deeply, eyes fixed on the Monongahela River.

"Right. Well, we kissed."

Lane almost spat out her mouthful of hot chocolate.

"And I'm not making it into a thing, but I just think...we're gonna be spending a hell of a lot of time together, just us, so we should probably talk about that."

"Okay, but you're gonna have to actually look at me if we're having that conversation." Lane sat forward and turned to face a slightly nervous-looking Ivor.

He reluctantly twisted towards her, eventually meeting her gaze.

"I think," she began, "that we just kissed. We were drunk and having fun and we, just, kissed. There's not a lot more to it, I don't think. So you can relax, we're not about to have the most awkward ten days of our lives." She smiled slowly.

Ivor was quiet for a minute, eyes searching Lane's face.

Her smile began to falter, "Right?"

"Right." He said, smiling wide and leaning forward to ruffle her hair, making Lane wonder if she had imagined the expression on his face.

"Don't go falling in love with me, Bennett." She joked.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

.........

ahahahahahahahahahahah....

it's pretty laughable that this is happening, actually, considering it's been like at least 3 years since i updated this.

just feeling kinda into this whole creativity thing with isolation and whatnot...anyway, if you were here before - hi! don't hate me! enjoy this! nice to see you again!

if you're new - thanks for joining! 

not sure what'll happen with this tbh but let's just go with it shall we :))

kate x