Pink Skies

PART 08

PART 08

            Seth marches into my room at nine o’clock in the morning on the Sunday after Isaac’s birthday. Of course, I don’t realize this until a pillow is smacked into my chest, causing me to sit right up in bed, eyes as wide as they can get this early in the morning (during a break).

            “Dude.”

            “You have a lover at the door,” he declares, face smug. I narrow my eyes at him and he proceeds to attempt to moonwalk out of my bedroom.

            “You’re such a loser!” I yell after him, throwing a pillow at the door he just closed, but failing worse than I thought I would have, watching the projectile land about three feet to the right of the target. I was never of the athletic kind.

            “I’m flipping you off!” He calls back through the door and sighing, I flop back onto my bed for a moment before sliding off and tugging a sweatshirt over my head. I stumble down the stairs. Yanking the door open, I blink for a moment at the startling light of the outside before focusing on the boy before me. Picasso curls around my pajama-d leg.

            “Hey, Vincent,” says Isaac and my eyes widen. “I made a snowman because you were taking so long.” He waves his hand behind him to gesture at the lump of snow in the middle of our front yard, and I find myself smiling at the glove on his hand. It’s probably the most hideous snow man I have ever seen, two rocks pushed into the middle of the face as the dislocated eyes, no nose or mouth to be found. It’s actually really freaking cute. I do my best to drop the smile before looking at him again.

            “What the hell are you doing here?”

            “Funny story. There’s people at our spot.”

Our spot, our spot, our spot.

            Instead I say, “What?”

            “People I don’t know. Where we usually go everyday.” He blinks slowly.

            “So you just ran away?” I laugh a little bit and he makes a face.

            “Talked to them, actually.” Of course. “They were pretty big assholes about it. Kinda like you were the first day. But they weren’t cute, so it’s not the same.”

            “Stop!” I nearly screech, face threatening to burn off of the rest of my body, and he grins the biggest grin ever.

            “Gonna let me in?” he asks in response and sighing, I open the door wider for him to slip in past me. Shutting the door, I follow him into the kitchen, where he pours himself some coffee from the pot on the counter. I sit down in a kitchen table chair as he settles against the counter, leaning next to the sink.

            I open my mouth to say something but don’t quite get to because that’s when Mom ambles in, smock on, hair up, paintbrush behind ear, clay on hands. She halts, mid-step, once her eyes spot Isaac, and then they widen, along with a smile on her lips. “Hi,” she says, Charming Mother coming out. She did the same thing when she met George.

            “Oh, hi,” Charming Isaac responds, outstretching a hand towards my mom, who accepts it with an even bigger smile, raising her eyebrows in an impressed manner at me.

            “So, you’re the cute boy who’s been stealing my daughter away from me every morning.”

            “I wasn't aware about the ‘cute’ part, but yeah I guess. I’m glad that’s the way Vincent describes me.”

            “I do not!” I protest, voice weak. Neither of them turn to pay me any attention and frowning, I pour milk into a mug for myself.

            “I’m Isaac,” he says and she nods.

            “Paige.” Mom tucks a black lock behind her ear before taking a step back to survey the both of us as a whole. Glaring at her, I refuse to meet her eyes, instead taking a huge gulp of my milk. “Man, you guys are going to give me beautiful grandchildren.”

            An interesting gurgling sound emits from the back of my throat and milk spews out of my mouth, onto the linoleum kitchen floor tiles. “Mom!”

            “You should probably clean that up,” Isaac says in a conversational tone, studying the spill I had made. Smirking, Mom walks back out, pot of coffee in one hand, mug in the other. Nose flaring, I scowl at Isaac, who only smiles even more crookedly. And then, Seth walks in.

            “Oh, so you’re the boy my sister’s been meeting every morning. Huh, you are cute.”

Holy fucking shit.

 // if you don’t remember, george is the boy vinnie had been teasing seth about in the first chapter. (“fuk u” “nuuuh-uhh, thas george’s job, loverboi” “ughaaah”)

so yeah. dedicated to shealynn (i spelled it right, bitch) for being the nicest asshole i know. i literally just talked to her for the first time yesterday and she was the sweetest. 

awesome. i love you.

i'm starting to find my whole 'vote? comment?' thing actually really quite obnoxious so imma stop that ok.

- nova. //