firecracker // rodrick heffley

CHAPTER SIX

Rodrick slept in that week. The frigid October air was only growing colder, and the thin slanted walls of his basement bedroom didn't keep him warm. On top of that, dreams of Sylvia consumed his sleep - all he wanted was to be immersed in those moments as long as he could. Of course, the option to speak to her at school was on the table, but their only class together was chemistry, and Rodrick found it difficult to approach her while they both had other friends in class. That barrier, however, did not stop them from sharing intimate looks across the room every time one of them could manage to catch the other's eye.

Late to school again, Rodrick rushed into the building and made a beeline to class. He took his seat next to Chris just as the final bell rang. The students had begun to set up their lab for that day; beakers and test tubes were laid out on the desks. Rodrick slowly spun a test tube between his forefinger and thumb. 

"Hey, Chris," Rodrick greeted his friend.

"Almost late again, Heffley? That's the closest you've cut it all week. And it's only Wednesday." Chris grinned.

"What does that mean?" Rodrick asked in mock defensiveness.

"I'm just saying - at this rate, come Friday you might not make it to school at all. But I guess it wouldn't be the first time, right? Where were you the other day?" Chris set his pen down on their shared table.

"I totally ditched. I didn't feel like coming," Rodrick laughed, hearing the irrationality of his judgment. Unconsciously, he glanced over to where Sylvia sat, watching her push a beaker across the desk with her chin in her hand. He felt his focus slip away, watching the way the classroom's air conditioning gently pushed her messy hair away from her face. 

"...exactly what I would do if I - Rodrick, are you okay?" Chris leaned over to look at him. 

"You know what would be funny?" Rodrick turned back towards Chris.

"What?"

"Remember when I set off that firecracker in class last year?"

"I thought you got suspended for that. That, and you gave Mr. Bunson a literal heart attack."

"It was not a literal heart attack. He just got scared by the noise. The heart attack happened when I wasn't even at school because I was suspended. Plus, he's like, seventy years old, so that wouldn't have been my fault anyway!" Rodrick protested.

"You didn't bring a firecracker to school, though, did you?" Chris pressed his lips together, suppressing a smile.

"Cover me," Rodrick started to dig around his backpack, finding the firework.

"Oh, my God," Chris pinched the bridge of his nose and joked, "I can't believe we hooked up."

Rodrick softly punched his arm, "Oh, come on." Holding the small firecracker, Rodrick leaned over the Bunsen burner, covering it from his teacher's line of sight with his shoulder. He lit the firecracker and put it in the middle of the room, as far from any desks as he could set it.

---

He got suspended again. Not that no one saw it coming, but "lapse of judgment" would be the understatement of the year. Unregretfully and unreluctantly he walked out of the principal's office, where he had been given his sentence - suspended for five school days. He supposed he should be grateful - it was a repeat offense, and he could have started a real fire or hurt someone. So, five days. Okay with him.

As he walked out the front doors of the school building, he heard heavy footsteps behind him - he turned to see Sylvia, running after him in her thick Doc Martens, her bag slipping off of her shoulder. "Rodrick! Wait up," she said, slowing as she reached the door alongside him.

Rodrick grinned. "Aren't you gonna get in trouble for leaving class?" he said as they both walked out.

"I don't think anyone noticed. If you'll recall, there was some chaos going on and it had everyone too preoccupied to see me going out the door." 

They laughed in spite of themselves. "Wanna hang out?"

---

The park was lovely at that time of year. Most of the leaves, vibrant with fall colors, still hung on the trees that cast long shadows over the sidewalks on sunny days. However, there were no shadows; it was not a sunny day. The fog was supposed to roll in later that night, but until then, it was cloudy. The vague promise of rain hung over their sleepy town. 

Rodrick's head rested on Sylvia's lap. His legs hung off the side of the park bench, his lanky body too long to lay completely flat. She ran her fingers gently through his hair, doing not much more than simply brushing it from his forehead. 

"I use my mom's eyeliner," Rodrick said, responding to a question Sylvia had asked.

"Your mom's? Why?"

"Uh, because I don't have my own? Why else?"

"Just steal some. It's really easy," Sylvia advised.

"Not a bad tip. Only from chains, though, right?" 

"Right."

"I would like to do more experimental stuff with makeup. Especially for shows," Rodrick said, closing his eyes to imagine Löded Diper's next gig, at a mythic local venue packed with music lovers.

"You should do winged liner. That would be hot."

"You should teach me. Like, now."

"I could put it on for you," Sylvia suggested.

Rodrick let his head fall into her lap. "Do it," he agreed.

Sylvia reached to her side, fishing for her liquid eyeliner in her cross-body school bag. Pulling it from a side pocket and uncapping the pen-like tube, she drew a long line of black onto his gently closed eyelid. She filled the empty space between his upper waterline and the first line, holding his cheek in her hand to stabilize his head as she worked.

"Cold," Rodrick muttered, his eyelashes fluttering slightly as the cool, watery makeup worked its way around his eyelids. Sylvia pushed hair out of his eyes, turning his cheek to mark his other eye. 

"Done," Sylvia said, tucking her makeup back into its pocket as Rodrick sat up. She looked at him, admiring her own handiwork. "Nice."

"Sexy?"

"Very sexy," Sylvia granted.

Rodrick felt a difference wearing the eyeliner. Even marginally, he felt bolder with dramatic winged eyeliner on. 

"You're so god damn pretty," Sylvia said, her tone loving and sincere.

Rodrick melted around the edges - he suddenly felt, rather than badass or bold, admired and cherished. "Pretty?" A blush crept across his cheeks - and not from the cool breeze.

Sylvia nodded, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb, the heel of her palm resting on the bench perpendicular to his. 

Rodrick, for a fraction of a second, glanced down at her lips before reciprocating eye contact. "Thanks," he said, still feeling butterflies from her compliment. 

"Should we go?" Sylvia started to stand.

Partly zoned out, Rodrick followed.

NOW PLAYING: The King of Carrot Flowers, Pt. 1 by Neutral Milk Hotel

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A/N

this chapter is shorter than the others - sorry i put it out so late, i have been out of town and honestly didn't expect anyone to even care about this fic 😹 but i love validation, so i'm glad it's reached a few people. thank you for reading!