# Light Inside

I placed the heavy box down on the wood floor and wiped my brow. Moving was always a massive hassle, even back when I didn’t have much stuff to cart around, but now that we were bringing Lucy’s things as well, it was a downright nightmare. We hadn’t quite needed a truck, but we’d managed to pack a moving van full to the brim.
​
Still, once it was over, it would all be out of the way. Better to just sack up and push through it.
​
We’d found a decent sized little apartment together, not in Skin Row this time. Lucy had been set on moving out of her parents’ place and living with me, and I was more than happy with that idea – but only after clearing it with her dad. Ripley’s bad side was not something I ever wanted to be on. The big bad ptero patriarch had come around pretty quickly, thank God. I remember there’d been a time when Lucy’s mother would pretty much have to play mediator in any conversation between me and him, but nowadays he seemed almost glad that I was there.
​
Mind you, he’d still clapped me on the shoulder and quietly but firmly reminded me to treat his daughter well... and then invited me to go golfing with him sometime. I just remembered what he said about that 9-iron and tried not to shudder. Even with the shit I’d seen in the desert, he was something else.
​
Just as I turned around to start heading back out to the van, Lucy came through the open doorway, several smaller boxes teetering in her arms. “These are the last few, Anon. Can you grab some off me?”
​
I pulled a few from the top of the tower and set them down, leaving her to kick the door shut before planting her boxes down next to mine.
​
“Whew! That’s the lot of it!” She clapped her hands together as we both stood up straight.
​
“Yep, now we just need to actually unpack it,” I remarked. Her face fell comically.
​
On the one hand, I was kind of thankful she hadn’t wanted to bring her old piano along with us when I’d asked. On the other though, I hadn’t missed the wince on her face before she’d started making excuses. ‘Too much effort getting it up out of the basement’, ‘It was my grandma’s, it should stay with mom and dad’, ‘It probably won’t fit in the apartment’.
​
All rang true enough as she gave them, I supposed. Wasn’t hard to tell that she had another reason for saying them, though. And that she didn’t want to even bring her guitar spoke volumes more.
​
It had been a few months since I’d returned to Volcaldera, and I’d spent as much of it with Lucy as I could, but I hadn’t forgotten what she’d said to me that first night. And since that day, I’d... noticed a few things. The way her gaze lingered dolefully on the church organ every other time we attended Sunday mass, or how she’d sported an outright woeful look at some kid’s guitar case they’d left in the foyer. The way she completely avoided talking about anything or anyone from Volcano High. The way she’d pulled me down alternate routes to avoid going past the school every time she’d walked home with me from the park. It was pretty obvious there was something amiss. There was something... almost haunting her, I supposed. It had me worried.
​
But at the same time, I couldn’t say she wasn’t doing well in her own right. I was really impressed with how well she’d been holding up since I‘d been deployed. Life might have taken a left turn, but she’d still been moving forward – she had an associate’s degree and steady employment teaching preschool.
​
She was tougher than she gave herself credit for.
​
I wasn’t sure what to do. Every other night I’d racked my brains, trying to think of a way to help her be happy with everything she’d done, but no easy answer ever came to me. I didn’t have the heart to push her into anything she might not be ready for. I couldn’t do that to her.
​
We’d been apart for three years, and in that time, she’d had no-one. She’d lived in almost self-imposed exile that whole time. It didn’t feel fair to even want to push her into anything, just a few short months after I’d returned. It didn’t feel right.
​
I looked over to see her just standing there blankly looking at our belongings, seemingly having run out of energy.
​
“You doing alright, Lucy?” I broke the silence that had fallen. Almost immediately she snapped back to attention.
​
“Yeah! Sorry, was just thinking. I know this’ll sound stupid, but now that you’re back... I really feel like I can mean something again.” She beamed at me, then cast her hands out over the assorted boxes and bags. “Like this is all a new start on life, you know? We’ve actually got our own place! You know how long I’ve been looking forward to this?”
​
“It does kind of feel like that,” I agreed as I returned her smile. “Which box did we put the plates in, do you remember? We should get something to eat before we start unpacking.”
​
“We didn’t actually pack anything to eat in those boxes, Anon, plates aren’t going to help us,” She rolled her eyes. She seemed completely animated again. “You’re right, though. Come on, let’s just go out and grab something.”
​
I followed her out the door, leaving my worries with the boxes for now. I could think about it later.
​
​
That night was quiet as we settled into bed. We were both tired from the move, and there was still more for us to do tomorrow – neither of us were up for anything more. I laid in bed with Lucy tucked up tightly against my side, but despite the day’s exertion sleep wasn’t coming as easily to me as it had to her.
​
Her wings were flopped down underneath the blanket, flat against the mattress. I never saw her looking like this when she was awake. She was always either abuzz with energy, busily making her way through the day, or completely spent, an absent look on her face as she did nothing at all just like yesterday. While she was asleep, though, she looked completely content, every bit as at peace with the world as that first night back we’d spent together and simply stayed awake in each other’s embrace.
​
She was precious like this.
​
I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I don’t remember admiring the view for long. The next thing I remember is Lucy’s exuberant call waking me up at the crack of dawn. “Morning, Anon! Time to get up!”
​
“What? What time is it?” I asked groggily. It was Sunday, I was pretty sure. No work.
​
“Time for you to get up,” She repeated mischievously. “Come on, get your butt up off the bed. We’ve got mass today, remember?”
​
“Oh, right! Right,” I got halfway up from under the blanket before I suddenly felt the bitter morning chill and retreated. “Uh... How about five more minutes.”
​
Lucy folded her arms and cocked her head, eyebrows raised tauntingly. “If you don’t get up right now I’m pulling that blanket right off.”
​
I froze up. “You wouldn’t. You couldn’t,” I pleaded.
​
She didn’t answer. Instead, faster than I could see, she reached down and swiped the blanket away. I instinctively curled up a bit at the shock of cold that hit me, prompting a burst of laughter from her as she dropped the sheet back down in a heap on the floor.
​
“Come on, lazy ass. I’m already getting breakfast ready, you could at least get up and eat it,”
​
“Alright, alright, I’m getting up,” I groaned, utterly defeated.
​
Breakfast wasn’t anything too crazy, with what little we had in the house, but the hot porridge helped chase away the cold. Lucy kept talking breezily as we sat down to eat.
​
“I think we should go and do some grocery shopping after mass. We need to get some stuff to put in the fridge before we finish unpacking. We don’t have any dino nuggies, for one thing.”
​
“Heaven forbid you don’t get your nuggies.” I chuckled. Some things just didn’t change.
​
“I need my nuggies, Anon!” She pointed her spoon at me with mock seriousness. “I’ll go crazy without ‘em!”
​
The drive to the local church was quiet, but short – that was one of the reasons Lucy had been interested in the apartment in the first place. Previously we’d both tagged along with Lucy’s parents as they went to their local Sunday service, but now we were on our own. Our new church was an old building, not a trace of modernity to it at all – tall and ivy-covered, proudly bearing the proof of its endurance through the test of time.
​
Definitely a far cry from Skin Row.
​
The old triceratops pastor welcomed us in before the congregation began just as he had last week, and while Lucy returned the greeting enthusiastically, I still felt a little out of place. Lucy seemed to love it here, from how insistent she was about attending, but this wasn’t exactly my element. We took our seats together amongst the rows of pews, up near the front where Lucy wanted. I sat patiently through the service, kneeling and genuflecting when it was called for – even if I didn’t believe, I had respect for what Lucy had respect for.
​
Towards the end of mass, though, my attention wandered a bit. My gaze fell upon the wooden pipe organ near the altar, off in the corner. I couldn’t help but notice... well, how much it looked like a piano. A little larger, a little more ostentatious looking – and it looked like it had two rows of keys instead of just one. I wondered how much more complex it was to play than a regular piano.
​
... I wondered if Lucy would know.
​
But it would be rude to ask in the middle of a service, so I held my breath until the pastor had given his last word and sent us off. As we shuffled out of the rows and made to join the crowd heading out of the building, I tugged her sleeve back and pointed.
​
“Hey, Lucy. You seen that?”
​
She followed my gaze. “Yeah? It’s an organ,”
​
“Do you know how to play it?” I asked.
​
“Sort of. I mean, it’s kinda harder than a piano, but kinda easier. There’s less keys, but that can make it harder to find the notes you want. And they’re in different places.”
​
For a second I was actually distracted. “Wait, less? There’s two whole rows on that thing.”
​
“Yeah, but they’ve got less keys on them each. Maths, Anon? You know that stuff?” She laughed.
​
“Alright, alright,” I rolled my eyes. “... I was just wondering if you’d be able to play our song on it.”
​
She eyed the instrument tentatively for a moment. “Hmmm... I dunno. Maybe? I could try –”
​
As though on autopilot she took one step toward it, then seemed to catch herself and freeze. It was like she’d just suddenly realized exactly what she was talking about.
​
“I, ah... I don’t know if I want to,” She said. She was facing away from me but I could hear the sudden shot of nerves in her voice.
​
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I assured her. “I just thought we could ask is all. Just if you’re up for it,”
​
She turned back to me then, and I wasn’t sure exactly what I saw on her face. Trepidation? Fear? Panic? All of the above perhaps, but behind it there was something more welcome. Something earnest, something that still hoped for better. Her gaze met mine for a moment, before falling away.
​
She stayed silent, waiting for me to answer the unspoken question, but I didn’t know what answer to give. I wasn’t sure if I should push it or not. I wasn’t sure if it was right or wrong to ask more of her. I was certain she wasn’t really happy, having left music behind completely.
​
But wasn’t that her decision to make?
​
“...Do you want to ask the pastor and see what he says?” I finally asked.
​
She turned away to face the organ again, and was silent for a long while. The crowd had long since left the church, leaving just us and the old pastor, looking curiously down at us from beside the altar.
​
She sucked in a deep breath. “... Yeah. Yeah, sure. Can’t hurt to ask.”
​
It was a weight off my heart to hear her say that. It was a relief to know that on some level, to some degree she still hoped for better just like I did. I came up beside her and wrapped one arm around her shoulders, and in response she drew me in closer with one wing as we walked up to the altar together.
​
“Good morning, Lucy and... Anon, wasn’t it?” The leathery old triceratops asked. I nodded my affirmation. Lucy had talked to him a little bit last week, but I hadn’t, and I was surprised he remembered my name at all. “Excellent. Forgive me, I’m poor with names at the best of times. I’m glad to see you both again. Was there something about the sermon you wanted to discuss?”
​
“No, Father,” Lucy spoke hesitantly, looking up at me uncertainly for a brief moment before continuing. “I was... actually just wondering... if I could be allowed to play a song on the organ?”
​
He seemed taken aback for a moment, but nodded graciously. “Certainly. I didn’t know you played,”
​
“I don’t, really, I’ve only really played piano,” She murmured as she sat down and smoothed her dress out. “I know they’re similar, though,”
​
Her fingers brushed tentatively over the keys at first, and for a while her notes were purely experimental, little more than deep, bassy noise as she figured her way around the keys. The pastor and I both sat quietly on the front pew as she worked through her practice, finding rhythms and dropping them as fast again.
​
I could see a small smile on her face as she focused, and it brought a smile to my own. This was her element.
​
Finally she let out a long exhale and leaned back. “Alright, I think I might be able to... Let me see...”
​
She began more slowly than she had on piano or guitar, letting the deep thrum of the organ’s voice resonate through the tremendous old building. The difference between her practicing and her playing was immediately apparent – the melody surrounded us, momentous in a way I’d never heard it before, demanding utter attention from its rapt listeners. I couldn’t take my eyes away from Lucy as she seemingly channelled her soul into the music. Before long she was throwing her back into it, as consumed by the music as myself and the pastor.
​
It brought me back to better times. Before I’d gone away to the desert. Before I’d left Lucy alone. She’d called herself broken since I left, but I could see in her right now the same spirit as I had when she’d played before.
​
I couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if I’d done things even a little differently. I heard in the music all the things that never were, the heights she could have reached if things had gone as she’d deserved.
​
The last reverent note fell away slowly, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Even on an instrument she wasn’t familiar with, she’d commanded the music with aplomb.
​
She looked exhilarated as she turned back to face me, a broad smile running across her face.
​
“That was astounding,” The old pastor broke the stunned silence. “I didn’t know you played at all, but you’ve got quite the talent.”
​
“Well, I –” She chuckled, rubbing her neck embarrassedly. “It’s not as different from the piano as I thought. I haven’t really played organ much...”
​
“That only makes it even more impressive, really. I’ve never heard anything quite like that. Have you ever considered playing for the choir?”
​
“I haven’t...” She murmured, looking my way for a moment. I gave her an assuring nod. “... But I think I could, maybe.”
​
​
Every week since then she played the organ for the Sunday mass. We had to leave even earlier in the morning to make sure everything was set up properly, and our Saturday mornings were spent on rehearsal with the choir. Or rather, her Saturday mornings were spent on rehearsal, while I sat in the rows and looked on.
​
I was happy to be there. I wanted to support her, I didn’t want to leave her alone any more than she wanted to face the music on her own.
​
Despite playing to perfection each time, she always looked nervous before each service, and exhausted afterwards. An hour or so later she would be back to her peppy self, but I was beginning to suspect lately that she was putting on a front to at least some degree. She’d never really spoken excitedly of getting to play for the choir, not once said she was happy doing what she was doing.
​
After that performance she’d poured her heart into, I’d thought the choir might simply bring her out of her shell a little bit. Now, though, I was growing concerned that it might be taking more of a toll on her than I’d realized.
​
“Are you alright, Lucy?” After our third mass at that church, I decided to ask her about it as I drove us home.
​
“... I’m alright. It’s just... exhausting, Anon,” She murmured after a moment, looking vacantly ahead. “It’s not the same as when I played our song. I feel like I’m dying a bit every time I go up there and play.”
​
“Really? But you play so well. It always sounds amazing,”
​
“Thank you,” She gave me a small smile, but it fell as quickly as it had come. “... I’m sorry. I should be enjoying it, I know, but... it only feels like hard work.”
​
“Don’t be sorry,” I said firmly. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. If you’re not comfortable doing it, we should talk to the pastor about it.”
​
She shook her head vehemently. “No! I can do it. It’s just... harder than it should be, is all.”
​
“You don’t need to push yourself if you’re not ready, Lucy.” I reminded her gently. “It’s better to take it slow.”
​
“No. I can’t just let everyone down like that,” She insisted, wringing her hands in her lap. “... I’ve been doing that way too long as it is. Now you’re here, I... I have to really try.”
​
I wasn’t sure what to feel. Did she really want to go to that kind of length just for me? Only for my sake – not for hers? On some level I was touched, but I didn’t want to think that she only playing because she felt she had to, that she felt some sense of obligation to show the church her music instead of any real want to do it.
​
“... You should only do it if it makes you happy, Lucy,” I said quietly. “Not if it makes anyone else happy. Not even me.”
​
She was silent for almost a minute, keeping her head down as I kept my eyes on the road.
​
“I don’t know what makes me happy anymore, Anon,” She whispered finally. “I really don’t. I love working with the preschoolers, but I always feel like I’m just wasting my time doing nothing. I can’t stop them from growing up and fucking up like us. And I don’t... Well, I don’t even really like playing music. I know I’m good at it, but it just doesn’t make me happy. It’s just work.”
​
She heaved a great breath before she continued, words spilling out of her. “I know I’m meant to be doing something, but I don’t know what. I should have tried to be a star or something, but I just couldn’t. I miss the band, I miss Trish and Reed, but... but at the same time, I can’t stand the thought of them both. Trish tried to screw my whole life up, and Reed... he just let her.”
​
In the car I couldn’t do much more than give her a reassuring squeeze. “Hey – It’s alright. Don’t beat yourself up about what happened in the past. We’ll get through this. We’ll figure something out,”
​
“I know. I know we will. It just all hurts,” She sighed, a wisp of a smile in her voice. “You’re the only thing I really know anymore, Anon. I love you.”
​
Despite my worry it still sent a thrill through me just to hear her say that. “I love you too, Lucy.”
​
​
As usual, the mask came back on, and Lucy returned to her exuberant self within a few minutes of us arriving home. We did some shopping together, cooked dinner, went for a short evening walk, watched television for a short while. A perfectly normal day, and she gave no indication that it was anything more or less than that, but I could feel an undercurrent to it. Words that neither of us wanted to speak or hear spoken. We both just wanted to be normal. We both wanted to feel happy.
​
And the happiness we had was genuine enough that neither of us could stand to disrupt it.
​
I pulled her close as we slept that night, and I couldn’t say that it was entirely for her comfort alone. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do for her. Her weight against my side and her wing draped over us beneath the blanket was just barely a reassuring enough presence to lull me to sleep.
​
She was still the woman I loved, no matter what. And she was still there.
​
In the early morning, however, she wasn’t. In the dull hazy state of being half-awake, the first thing I noticed was that she was gone, and I jolted out of bed in a panic.
​
“Anon?” I heard her quiet voice in the gloom. I was instantly relieved that she was still there somewhere.
​
I flicked on the lamp on our bedside table and looked over to see her standing by the window, looking back over her shoulder at me with a wan smile. It was raining gently outside, streaking down the window and casting the world in grey.
​
“Lucy?”
​
She turned back to the window, ruffling her wings slightly before letting them droop back down. “It’s alright, Anon. I’m right here.”
​
“How long have you been up?” I asked, throwing the blanket off and ignoring the cold as I slowly picked myself up out of bed.
​
“Don’t know. Before the sun came up,” She murmured.
​
“... What are you doing?”
​
“Just watching the rain. I couldn’t sleep. I’m sorry if I upset you, Anon.”
​
“I’m not upset, don’t worry. I was just confused for a second,” I reassured her as I came up beside her. Almost immediately she reached out with both an arm and a wing, pulling me in close and leaning against me as if her life depended on it. “Did you have a nightmare?”
​
“N-No, I just...” Her voice cracked for a second, and she gulped audibly before forcing herself to keep going. “It’s just... m-my... my wings were so itchy... But I don’t want to – to... I promised not to...”
​
I swear I felt my blood chilling in my veins. Immediately I thought back to the time I’d sat on the blood-speckled rooftop of Volcano High with her, all ripped wings and scattered feathers and heartfelt honesty. Almost on instinct I pulled her in closer, prompting another wracking sob from her as she buried her head into my chest.
​
“It’s alright, Lucy,” I whispered to her. “It’s alright. Talk to me. Tell me about it.”
​
“I just – I fucking – I just want –” A hiccup punctuated each long-repressed sob. “I just want to be happy again but I just don’t know how anymore. I... I don’t know what I’m doing anymore! I can’t be a good wife for you, I don’t know how. I’m just... living the same way I always have and trying to copy my mom, but I feel like an idiot all the time! I don’t know if I’m doing anything right, and I can’t even play music like I used to anymore,”
​
The words fell out of her in an unstemmable tide – so I didn’t try. I just held her tightly and rocked us both gently as we stood, offering what comfort I could and hoping that it was enough for the pain and grief to escape her.
​
“I haven’t improved myself at all. I’m still the same shit person as before, always fucking things up for everyone. I haven’t gotten anywhere with anything in three years, Anon. I just fell apart and I never got anywhere...”
​
“You don’t fuck things up for me, Lucy. I’ll never think that.” I believed that with all my heart, and wanted nothing more than to convince her of it, too. I just didn’t know how. “You’ve got a lot of love to give, and I wish you could see that you deserve as much for yourself as you give to me.”
​
She looked up at me miserably. “But I don’t deserve it, Anon. I’m broken. You’re the only thing that’s still good in my life.”
​
“I don’t think you’re broken, Lucy. I think you’re way stronger than you believe.” I said, trying my utmost to let the certainty of truth through into my words. “Life’s just hard sometimes. Holding on as well as you have is more than you can ask out of a lot of people. You’re tougher than you think you are.”
​
“My life’s not that –” She started to voice her protest, but abruptly stopped as a look of realization stole over her tear-stained face. “Anon... I’ve never asked. But I should have. What was it like while you were in the desert?”
​
Those memories were the last things I wanted to dredge up at this moment, but how could I just blow her off when she asked? She’d seen my scars before, of course she had – we shared a bed. But I’d never told her the stories of how I’d gotten them, for one simple reason.
​
As far as I was concerned, they didn’t have any stories. They were just things. Things I’d moved past and allowed myself to forget. Things I’d never wanted to get stuck on, because I knew if I had, they would have become a part of me. The only thing I allowed myself to remember about them was thinking once in the infirmary that if I let myself dwell on them any more than I had, I wouldn’t be able to go back to a life without them.
​
“... Hard,” I said finally, earning a reluctant, choked-up chuckle from her as I struggled to think of something serious to say. “It... Well, no, it really was hard. I did a lot of things I’m not happy with. But I did what I had to, I got through it, and... it’s over now. I’m back here.”
​
Her question came slowly, and full of fearful trepidation. “Did... Did you ever shoot anyone?”
​
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to answer or not. “... Yeah. Yeah, I did.”
​
She looked up at me wide-eyed. “... What was it like?”
​
It was a million things all at once, none of which I wanted to say. God, none of which could probably do it justice even if I did say them. I couldn’t convey everything that had run through my head after I’d taken my first shot at a real person, all the long hours I’d spent trying to sort through those emotions in my head, and the even longer hours trying to push myself not to dwell on them. I liked to think I’d done a pretty good job. I’d come away from shit that broke a lot of people intact, both physically and mentally – as far as I could tell anyway. But all that hard work would come undone if I let it. If I forgot it, and lived my life without it – well, that was as much as anyone could ask for.
​
“Bad.” I shook my head dumbly. “Just... bad. I get that sounds stupid, but I really can’t put it any better than that, Lucy.”
​
“All those scars you got...” My heart fell even further in my chest. I knew what she was about to say. “... You got shot at too, didn’t you?”
​
“Yeah. I did. Not all of them were from that, but... Yeah.”
​
She fell silent for a long moment, her head downcast as she turned her gaze back out the window.
​
“God, Anon. My life’s nowhere near as hard as what you’ve been through.” She murmured tonelessly. “I got no right to be complaining next to you. My life’s been nothing in comparison.”
​
“Don’t say that. Just because I’ve been in some shit, doesn’t mean you haven’t been in any.” I said firmly. “No point in comparing how hard or easy our lives have been. Someone else struggling harder than you doesn’t mean you still aren’t struggling yourself. I really am so impressed with how well you’ve done for yourself.”
​
“... I just don’t understand how you think that, Anon,” Her voice was barely a whisper as she let her head droop down against my chest again. “Compared to everyone else, I’m useless. My mom, my brother, y-you...”
​
“No, you’re not, Lucy. You’ve got to stop thinking like that. I can’t stand seeing you hurt yourself like this,” I insisted quietly as I ran one hand through her long hair. “You’ve just been going through some rough times, but that’ll change. It’ll be okay.”
​
She seemed to relax somewhat in my arms then. I’m not certain how long we stayed together like that, just standing and watching the rain patter down against the window. Neither of us spoke, and by degrees her staccato sobs slowed and stopped. Even then I didn’t want to pull away, though.
​
It wrenched my heart to hear her putting herself down like this. I wanted to help her, but I didn’t know how. I could tell her to be proud of herself and happy with what she’d managed until I was blue in the face, but it wouldn’t help if she just didn’t want to do it. There was still a flame within her, sputtering slightly but burning hot – but it was burning her up from the inside. The pride and strength I’d come to see in her that semester in Volcano High was undoubtedly still there, but she now feared it, hated it, and refused to acknowledge it.
​
I didn’t understand. All I knew for certain was that something had to give. She felt more fragile than ever as I held her that morning, like she might have collapsed under the weight of a single raindrop. Like she bore an unspeakable, invisible agony that made her frail and brittle enough to simply fall apart.
​
“It’s better to forget the pain, Lucy. Keep the happy memories, but forget the pain,” I felt compelled to speak as that thought hit me. A younger me might never have said it, but after what I’d been through, I knew it for a fact. There was just no other way. “Trust me. What’s done is done. There’s no good in dwelling on it, no matter how bad it was. Forget the pain, but remember the good times. Remember what they used to mean to you.”
​
“How? How do you do that?” She looked up at me again, a hint of red desperation in her amber eyes.
​
“Thinking of something else when it hurts. For me in the desert, it was thinking of you. Thinking of how I wanted to come back and see you, and how good my life would be again once I did.” I drew her in tight again. “And you haven’t disappointed me, Lucy. You’re nowhere near useless. You’ve got no idea how happy you make me.”
​
“... Thank you, Anon,” I saw the faintest beginnings of a wan smile on her face. “I’m alright now. I’m sorry.”
​
“Don’t be sorry, it’s alright,” I reassured her again. “I’m here to help you, Lucy.”
​
“I know, I just don’t want to be a bother,” She said as she pulled away at last. “And, anyway... we both have to go to work. It’s probably about time we started getting ready.”
​
“Are you sure you’re alright to?” I asked her gently.
​
“Yes. I’ll be okay,” She insisted, looking up at me with a wan smile. “I promise I’ll be okay today, Anon. Come on – I’ll get started on breakfast.”
​
​
After work that day, I made another stop. Well, to be honest I shouldn’t call it work. Technically recruitment was still duty, but it felt a lot more like work than active service, so hell, it may as well be work.
​
Whenever I hadn’t been busy, I’d been thinking of Lucy. She was instantly on my mind when there as nothing else to occupy it. I’d considered sending her a message earlier in the day to ask how she had been going, but decided against it. She’d promised she’d be okay. If I couldn’t trust her on that, how could I trust her on anything? And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that if I was going to help her at all, I really was going to have to trust her.
​
I couldn’t tear down the walls she’d put up to protect herself. The thought of that felt like an irredeemable overstepping of boundaries. It simply wasn’t my place to make that call for her, but it might be possible for me to show her she didn’t need those walls. If I could just show her the resilience I knew she had, if she could realize exactly how tough a person she was, she would be able to decide to hammer them down herself.
​
... or she could decide not to. The thought struck me that the effort might be futile, that she might not want to embrace herself anymore – or might not even be able to. But when I thought back to yesterday morning, how she’d mentioned feeling tempted to preen again, I knew I couldn’t just leave her to suffer. She wasn’t happy. She needed to be offered the choice... and I needed to accept it if she refused.
​
It was her call to make at the end of the day. Not mine.
​
The solution had to lie at Volcano High. Over the years I’d been away, Lucy had cut herself off from the world, but in that semester, she’d been growing steadily more outgoing, more confident, more... genuine, I supposed. Right up until that last night, wherein I was starting to suspect she’d been so badly shaken that she’d felt she had no choice but to back away from life entirely.
​
I had a feeling I might know where the crux of the issue was. I had to talk to Trish.
​
... Finding her was another matter, of course. I had no idea where she’d gone since that semester. She’d ducked out of prom night just like Lucy and I had, and she’d been as good as her promise. To my knowledge she’d not spoken to Lucy since then. I remembered her words, though. She only wanted Lucy to be happy, she’d said.
​
I hoped she hadn’t changed her mind over the years. I hoped I could locate her to find out.
​
And so I found myself at the base of the long stairway up to the school. The building hadn’t changed much at all, still as tall and ivy-covered as the last day I’d seen it. It was past school hours now so the place appeared quiet, but the office should still be open.
​
A fearful flicker of doubt nagged at me as I climbed the stairs, telling me that the trepid woman I’d married was the true Lucy, the happier Lucy, and that the confidence of her Fang persona was nothing more than an act. I couldn’t shake the thought of the way she’d acted in that semester being nothing more than a mask she’d put on to hide her weakness.
​
But I had to believe in the strength of that flickering flame I knew was there. I had to trust that she was strong enough not to snap and hide behind her new mask of happiness forever.
​
With a steeling breath, I walked through the sliding doors and headed over towards the reception. A vaguely familiar lime green stegosaurus was behind the desk, busily tapping away on a keyboard. She left her work and turned her attention to me with a polite smile as I approached.
​
“Good afternoon, can I help –” The voice clinched it. Seemingly at the same time as I recognized her, Stella recognized me. Immediately her eyes lit up and her clearly practiced demanour vanished. “Anon! Hey! It’s you! How have you been? Where have you been? I thought you died!”
​
“You thought I died?” I asked, bewildered for a moment. That was where she jumped to?
​
Stella had never seemed to be entirely there, as I remembered her. She walked to her own beat, did her own thing, and owned it completely. Never seemed to have a care for what anyone thought of her. I’d kind of envied her for that, even if just seeing her reminded me unpleasantly of my own weeb phase. It was good to see that even now she still seemed exactly as I remembered her.
​
“Yeah, I mean, you just went totally off the grid, Anon! I tried to keep in contact with everyone from school, but I couldn’t get a hold of you. You and a few other people,” She explained, a slightly fretful note in her voice despite the smile on her face. “Wow, I remember you being a lot less bulky. What have you been doing with yourself all this time?”
​
“Sorry about that, Stella. I’ve been deployed,” I answered with a shrug.
​
“Deployed? Like in the army? Wow, that’s pretty cool! I never would have thought you’d end up going that way in life.” She remarked with an impressed look. “I guess that’d explain the silence, though. What was it like? Was it exciting?”
​
I cringed inwardly. “... Exciting’s one word for it, sure. It wasn’t exactly a holiday, though, Stella.”
​
“Oh, yeah?” She asked excitedly, before the realization of what she was asking very visibly hit her. “Oh. Oh, right. Sorry...”
​
I waved her off. I just wanted to move the conversation away. “Don’t worry about it. What about you? How long have you been working here?”
​
“Oh, a few years now. I was just an assistant at first, but look at me now – on the front desk, all by myself!” She threw her arms out and beamed proudly. “I gotta say though, it does feel kinda strange. Do you know what I mean? I mean, I used to go to this school, and now I’m still here, but on staff instead. It’s weird how life works out sometimes, isn’t it?”
​
Isn’t it just, I didn’t say. “Neat. What else have you been up to? Still doing your tarot readings and stuff?”
​
To my surprise, she gave a small shrug. “Oh, well... Not so much, really. I never had much chance to do readings for anybody after graduation, except Rosa, but I can tell she gets tired of it. I’ve sort of just... stopped with that stuff, I guess.”
​
I was taken aback. Maybe not exactly as I remembered, then. Was everybody I knew just giving things up? “What about those good old Chinese cartoons you used to love?”
​
“They’re Japanese, Anon, and I know you know that full well!” A mischievous smile ran across her beaked face. “I still haven’t forgotten that presentation.”
​
“Oh god, I’d hoped people would have by now...” I groaned.
​
“Maybe everyone else will, but not me! I wasn’t lying by the way, she really is a great waifu and I really do love her. ”
​
“Gee, thanks, Stella,” I chuckled embarrassedly. Once again I felt like this conversation had to move along, the faster the better.
​
Stella, on the other hand, didn’t seem to feel that at all, her smile only growing wider. “Have you ever seen ToraDora, Anon? I watched it just recently, it’s great! You should come over sometime and we can watch it together, I’ve been trying to get Rosa to but she just won’t. If you were there, though... I mean, she’d like to see you again too, I bet!”
​
“... Maybe some other time. I actually came here to ask you something, if you don’t mind.”
​
Her brows furrowed. “Oh. Sure, what’s up?”
​
“I was just wondering if it would be possible to get a hold of any of Trish’s contact details,” I asked slowly. Now that I thought about it, I wasn’t sure exactly how to explain why I wanted them. Hopefully she just wouldn’t ask.
​
“Trish? Hm, I remember her. She’s another one I haven’t talked to since graduation... What did you want to talk to her about? If you don’t mind me asking. Is it about the presentation?”
​
Damn. “No, it’s... for Lucy’s sake,”
​
“Lucy...? Oh, Fang, right! I remember!” She gasped. “I’d almost forgotten her actual name, sorry... Are you and her still together? I haven’t gotten to talk to her either, is she going by Lucy again? That’s... good! I think?”
​
“She’s just going through a bit of a rough time right now,” I said quietly. “That’s actually kind of why I was hoping you could point me towards Trish. They didn’t part on the best of terms...”
​
She looked up at me uncomfortably for a moment. “... Uh, well... Strictly speaking I’m not supposed to give you anything like that unless there’s a real serious reason, Anon, since you don’t have any relation to her. I could probably get in big trouble for that... Also, any details I gave you would be out of date by now, you know. She hasn’t been here for three years, after all,”
​
My crestfallen look must have shown on my face, because she immediately resumed talking without waiting for a response.
​
“But! ... For Fang – er, Lucy’s sake, I’d be happy to give you what I’ve got. Just as long as you don’t tell anybody who told you...”
​
“My lips are sealed.” A spark of hope was blooming in my chest.
​
“Alright, just give me a minute here, I’ll look it up...” She turned her attention back to her computer. “Hey, uh... When you and her have time... if she doesn’t mind... would it be okay if I called you guys sometime? Like I said, I’m trying to keep in contact with people from school. It’d be great to talk to you guys again...”
​
“Sure, Stella, but... maybe not for a little while, alright?” I answered. Her face fell and immediately I felt guilty. The last thing I wanted was to fob her off when she’d been nothing but nice. “We can swap numbers if you got a bit of paper spare, but... well, we just might not be able to call for a while.”
​
She brightened up again slightly, quickly passing me a blank sticky note and a pen. “Sure! Yeah, that’s fine, it doesn’t have to be tomorrow or anything. I’d just like to see you guys again. Rosa would, too,”
​
“Yeah, it’d be nice. How’s she going, by the way? ” I asked as I scrawled my number down.
​
“Oh, she’s just peachy. I still talk to her every other day. She runs a florist’s now!” She seemed to find what she was looking for on the computer with a satisfied noise, reaching across her desk again for another sticky note. She spared me a glance as she did. “Maybe sometime we can all meet up and catch up with each other. That’d be fun,”
​
“I’d like that,” I concurred. “Just...”
​
“Not right now, I know,” she nodded sagely as she passed me her note. “Here. This is her last home number and address we’ve got. And mine’s on the back.”
​
I pocketed it gratefully, and handed her my own in turn. “Thanks Stella. I really appreciate this,”
​
“No problem, Anon. I better get back to work, but hey... Don’t run off again, alright? It was really nice to see you again after all this time. And tell Lucy I’m looking forward to hearing from her, okay?”
​
“You bet.”
​
​
“Hey, Anon! Dinner’s done!” Lucy called from the kitchen.
​
“Coming!” I called back, putting down the papers I’d been flicking through.
​
In truth I hadn’t really needed to be doing anything. These enlisted dossiers didn’t need to be sorted through right away. Lucy had shooed me out of the kitchen when I’d offered to help, insisting that it was her job and I should leave her to it. I wasn’t sure how to argue without seeming like a jerkass, so I’d left her to it as she said, but that left me with nothing to do. It didn’t feel right for me to be doing nothing while she worked, even if it was what she wanted, and as a result, I’d turned to doing work that didn’t need to be done for a good while yet.
​
It struck me that she might be trying a bit too hard at this. I didn’t exactly need a big, fancy dinner every other night to be happy. In fact I’d probably just end up getting fat that way, and it wasn’t like I couldn’t cook on my own in any case. I wasn’t sure how to say that to her, though. She seemed so proud of herself when she did this kind of thing. Normal, domestic stuff. Wife stuff, I supposed. It was such a far cry from the Fang of old, but she went about it with such convincing aplomb that some days I really did find myself asking whether that had been the true Lucy, or whether this was her now in front of me.
​
It almost felt like poison to my own mind every time I thought it, but she seemed so in her element now. She always talked about her day at the kindergarten so enthusiastically, laughing her head off as she told me all about what mischief the kids had been up to that day. She would listen intently even if I had barely anything to tell her about my own day in turn. She cooked to perfection each night, and she kept the apartment clean with a zeal that reminded me of Rosa tending to her flowers back at school. She was going above and beyond.
​
But always the mask slipped off, and always just when she thought I wasn’t looking. The way her face would harden with bitterness sometimes sent a chill down my spine, and whenever I saw her vacantly staring out into nothingness, wrapped up in something she didn’t want to share, I could swear I felt that chill spread through the whole room. After the episode this morning, with her thoughts of self-harm returning in force, I knew for certain it was hollow. I knew she was doing it all for my sake, not for her own.
​
I thought back to that day I first reunited with her, when she told me of how badly she’d suffered alone. She wasn’t meant to be like this. She wasn’t happy; she was distracted. Even I could tell she poured such energy into these simple tasks not finding fulfilment in them, only hoping that she would someday down the line. She had such a spark within her, but so little light made it out to the surface now.
​
Something had to give, sooner or later. I couldn’t bear it if she broke down entirely.
​
In contrast to my heavy thoughts, she looked particularly exuberant as I entered the room, humming a tune to herself as she plated up. The warmth of the kitchen was comforting in a way I couldn’t explain as I sat down at the table.
​
“Roast veggies and meat loaf,” She announced happily. “Homemade, too. The good stuff, Anon. So if you tell me it’s anything less than perfect, I’ll have to kick your ass.”
​
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Lucy,” I let myself laugh along with her.
​
She continued chattering as we started eating. “So the silliest thing happened at work today. Julian – I don’t remember if I’ve told you about him, the little stegosaur, big troublemaker – I got him a cup of water, and he just ran outside straight away and tipped it up in the sandpit. And then, right, he takes the mud, or sand mud, whatever – and just starts rubbing it all over his face!”
​
“Really? He sounds like a handful,” I remarked bemusedly. She really did love the kids and their antics, and she loved regaling me with tales about them.
​
“That’s not even the half of it. This was like ten minutes before home time, so we just barely managed to get him cleaned up in time. Anyway, his parents come in and pick him up, and as they’re leaving he pulls away and dives right back into it. Face first.”
​
That actually got a snort out of me. This kid was definitely going places. “Did you have to –”
​
“Yep, we had to clean him up again,” Lucy had a mock grimace on her face as she interjected before bursting into a fit of sniggers. “They kept him in an iron grip when they were walking him out the second time, I’ll tell you that.”
​
“Good thing they did, imagine having to clean him up three times.” I said in between bites of meat loaf. It was as good as anything else she’d ever put up on a plate. I couldn’t deny she had a talent for cooking.
​
“Pass, pass, and pass.” Lucy laughed. “What about you? How was work?”
​
“Really slow. Mostly just paperwork. Planning for an event next month,” I shrugged.
​
“How come you were so late back, then? Was there that much?” She asked curiously, taking her eyes off the plate for a moment.
​
I knew she wouldn’t like to hear it, but I was going to have to say it eventually anyway. “Well... I stopped by Volcano High, actually.”
​
Just as I’d thought it would, the mood in the room changed instantly. Lucy winced and paused for a moment, immediately on edge at the mere mention of the school. Very slowly she resumed eating, carefully as though trying not to provoke a predator.
​
“... Oh. What for?” It was plain in her voice that she didn’t want to be part of the conversation anymore, but neither did she want to pretend anything was wrong.
​
I heaved a sigh and decided to rip the bandage off. “Lucy, I think you should talk to Trish.”
​
Now she froze up completely, beak halfway open, eyes trained on her fork halfway up to her mouth. “... Why? I don’t want to talk to her, Anon. I don’t need her anymore, after what she did.”
​
“Well – Look, Lucy. You haven’t been the same since I got back. You said it yourself, you feel like you’re broken,” Her face contorted in a pained grimace as she put her fork back down and stared at her plate. I felt like the biggest piece of shit on the face of the earth saying that, but it had to be said. “I just think – if you think you are broken, then it might help put you back together. You’re not happy like this, I can see how it’s still hurting you. I can see you carry that weight around every day.”
​
“But I don’t want to talk to her, Anon,” She whimpered. “She nearly screwed my whole life up. Everyone just hated me more when I started doing that non-binary shit, and she just kept pushing me into it. I didn’t even realize she was doing it until you came along, but she was! The whole time, she was...”
​
“I don’t think she realized it either, Lucy,” I said gently. “I remember I talked to her that night at prom, after she tried to pull you up on stage. She told me she was only trying to help, and –”
​
“‘Trying to help’? Yeah, right,” Lucy snapped, an ember of anger appearing in her amber eyes. I heard the faintest trace of that old fire in her words coming through. “The way she kept talking shit about Naser when he was the one really trying to help – I pretty much let her run my life for years because I thought she was so smart, but she was just even stupider and nastier than I was. And that day she said to me ‘I think you might be non-binary’ – that was the day everything really started going wrong. If I’d never listened to her, I wouldn’t be anywhere near as broken as I am now! And just think of if I’d kept listening, where would I be –”
​
“She said she only wanted to help,” I interjected again, quieter. Thankfully, Lucy stopped to listen. “And she said she was sorry, and that she didn’t want to hurt you anymore, so she would leave you alone.”
​
Lucy’s eyes widened in shock. For a moment she only stared at me, jaw slack and brows furrowed as she visibly processed that. I wasn’t sure if she’d want to believe it – after prom, neither her nor I had wanted to talk about it. Back then, I’d thought it might be better if she’d had some time to put it behind her, just like she’d wanted when she’d taken a break from the band. Back then it had felt like we’d finally earned our peace from Trish’s machinations, but now, three-odd years later, I found myself wondering if I shouldn’t have thought of what she’d needed – not what she wanted.
​
I’d tried my best with what I had back then, but after all was said and done, I’d still just been a dumb kid.
​
“... Well, what’s it matter? Even if she didn’t mean to, she still did it,” Lucy finally growled, but I could hear the lack of bite in it. She wanted to be furious, but it was like she couldn’t truly muster that much up. “And I still let her. I spent months of my life acting like an emo grunge idiot or something, trying to be a rock star, making everyone hate me. And I spent years trying to make my own family hate me, because she thought it was a good idea. Years of my life, gone just like that, Anon. Doesn’t matter whether she meant it or not,”
​
“I used to think like that, before I met you, Lucy.” I murmured, looking down at the table ashamedly. I hadn’t been the best person back then. “Please, really think about it. I honestly think talking to Trish would help you heal, Lucy.”
​
She was silent for a long while, and when I looked up I found her with her eyes cast down just like mine had been, bearing an expression of deep consternation. I couldn’t begin to wonder what tumultuous thoughts were running through her head at that moment. The pain ran deeper than I’d ever thought, and she’d spent years letting it into her very core.
​
“How do you know? What if it just makes me worse?” She suddenly looked up and asked, desperation tinging her voice. “I – I just don’t know if I can talk about it. I don’t want to talk to her, Anon. I just want to forget it all ever happened.”
​
“All of it, Lucy? She was your friend for so long,”
​
“Yeah, well, that was before she tried to fuck my whole life up, Anon,” She countered with a sigh. “I can’t talk to her, Anon. I don’t even know what I’d say.”
​
“You should just say what you feel. It’ll only get more confusing if you try to plan it out,” I advised her. I had too much experience with playing conversations in my head.
​
“Maybe you’re right, but...” Lucy shook her head dispiritedly. “I don’t want to say what I feel to her. I don’t... I don’t even really know for sure what I feel about her, to be honest, Anon. Everything she did to me... I can’t just let her get away with it. Can I...?”
​
I shook my head slowly. “Stupid she might have been, but I don’t think she ever meant to be nasty, Lucy. I think the only way to know for sure is to ask her... But we don’t have to do it tonight,”
​
She let out a heavy exhale. “Fuck... I don’t know... These last few years I’ve hated her guts, but if you’re right, then I’ve...”
​
I nodded. In truth I hadn’t expected her to come around to the idea immediately. “Maybe you should just figure it out in your head a bit first after all. Just please think about it, alright?”
​
“Yeah, I will, don’t worry about that,” She said with a tiny smile, tentatively picking her utensils back up. “I think it’ll be stopping thinking about it that’s the trick.”
​
​
For the second time, I woke up in the early morning unpleasantly alone. Lucy was not in bed beside me.
​
Shocked awake, I jolted up and turned to the window where she’d been last time. Just as before she stood in silhouette before the window, her back turned to me. She was quaking quietly, with only a tiny sniffling sound betraying her silent turmoil.
​
As I opened my mouth to say something she shifted abruptly, stretching her left wing out, and then slowly curled it up around in front of her. Ever so slowly her hand came up towards her pristine feathers, and I realized what she was about to do.
​
“Lucy?”
​
Her name left my mouth out of sheer shock and fear more than anything, but the utterance had the effect I’d desired. Her wings flared out abruptly as she gasped in surprise and looked back over her shoulder at me.
​
“Anon!?”
​
“Lucy, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” I threw myself up out of bed, hurrying over to join her.
​
“No...” Her voice cracked as she forced the words up out of her throat. “I’m not – It hurts, Anon. It fucking hurts!”
​
“What? What hurts?” I looked her over as I reached her. I couldn’t see anything wrong physically but she just about collapsed into my arms, now openly sobbing.
​
“My head! Everything! I’ve been trying to think but it’s so hard,” She cried. “My wings keep itching. I can’t focus! All my feathers are itchy! I – I don’t want to, I know I promised, but – but if I just pulled a few –”
​
“Don’t, Lucy, please. It would only get worse,” I begged her. “It might go away for a little bit, but then it would only hurt instead.”
​
“Better that than this! It’s just – all over my wings,” Her breathing was fast and heavy, her sharp fingers flexing. “I need to think, but I can’t – I can’t do anything –”
​
“It’s alright, Lucy. Please, it’s alright...”
​
Once again I didn’t know what to say to help her. Once again I didn’t know what to do. I felt utterly lost as I held her in my arms, swaying gently in a hopeless attempt to try and soothe her somewhat as she wailed. She felt frail in a way I’d never known her as before as she seemingly fell apart in my arms, her whole body heaving with each wrenching sob.
​
“I know I shouldn’t... I know I promised...” Her eyes were screwed shut as she spoke, as though ashamed of the words. “I just can’t get my thoughts straight. All this stuff with the church, and now Trish... I don’t know what I want anymore, Anon! I wanted to forget high school, and music, and all... all that shit, but now...”
​
“It’s alright, Lucy,” I murmured again. I felt helpless but for repeating that. “You’re doing alright,”
​
“I don’t feel like it!” She cried out. “I feel like I was supposed to be doing something real, but now I don’t think I ever will. I feel like I’m just a disappointment.”
​
“You’ve never disappointed me, Lucy,”
​
She drew in a great breath before slowly releasing it. “You’re the only one,”
​
“What about your brother? Your parents?” I pulled back to look her in the eye as I asked her, but she didn’t meet my gaze. “They don’t expect the world from you, Lucy. They’d probably be happy if you just let yourself be happy with the things you’ve done. And I would too, Lucy. You are a good person.”
​
“Then why don’t I feel like it?” She finally looked up at me, her amber eyes dull with despair. “I don’t know if you can help me this time, Anon. I don’t know if anyone can. I’m just... broken. I’m just fucked up.”
​
“Well, not to me, you’re not,” I tried to reassure her as I pulled her back in close. I just wanted to remind her that I was still there for her. “I’ve said it before, but I still think you’re the best, Lucy.”
​
This time she leaned into me, her wings falling limp back behind her as she rested her head against my shoulder. All of a sudden it was like her energy was utterly spent.
​
“I kinda thought us getting married would fix everything,” She shrugged dismally. “I really just thought everything would fall into place. I thought I’d be perfectly happy here like this.”
​
“... Nothing’s ever that easy.” I murmured. “I’ll still help you in any way I can, though, Lucy.”
​
“I know,” She said with a wan smile. “I really don’t deserve you.”
​
“Yeah, you do. You deserve even more than I can give you,” I guided us back to the bed and we sat together, leaning against each other. “Don’t worry. We don’t have to rush with anything, Lucy, we can just take our time. Leave it for tomorrow and see how you feel then, alright?”
​
“Alright,” She said with a weak sigh. “I just... I thought I could handle it. It shouldn’t be that hard... I just don’t want to be a burden to anyone anymore. Especially not you,”
​
“You’re not a burden, Lucy. Don’t think like that,” I admonished her gently. “Sometimes just figuring things out is hard enough. But it’s alright. Like I said, we can just wait until you’re ready.”
​
Silence fell between us, and we stayed together for a little while quietly. The sun slowly made its morning ascent, creping up to illuminate the world outside our window. Its orange glow finally lent some small warmth to our room, sending a shiver through me as I finally had time to register just how cold I was. For a moment I was tempted to try and pull the covers up around us, but disturbing Lucy wouldn’t be worth it.
​
She seemed to have calmed down at last, her breathing slow and steady against my side. The nerve-wracking start to the morning still felt worth it just to be able to share in a part of her life like this. She really did still have so much warmth to give, and I was starting to get desperate for a way to get her to realize that.
​
I didn’t think she’d ever been broken by the world. Rather she’d let pieces of herself fall by the wayside, things she didn’t think she wanted anymore, or that she was better off without – but she suffered without them. And most of them, I believed, now rested with Trish. Naser had held them once, whether he’d realized it or not. All those years ago, however, Lucy had once had the fortitude to sit down and reconcile with him, and in the doing take back some of what she’d lost.
​
She would have to face Trish sooner or later if she really wanted to put herself back together. I had to believe she still had that fortitude within her to do it. I had to help her, if I could. And I had to believe that Trish would still feel the same way she had back then. Three and a half years ago, she’d said that she was sorry, and that she only wanted Lucy to be happy – but that was three and a half years ago. A long time in which she might change her mind, even assuming it hadn’t just been words in the first place.
​
Either way, I would just have to take my own advice, for now. Like I’d said to her, things could be worked out in time. A wise – if slightly over-enthusiastic – old man had told me once that the key to a successful relationship was support. I couldn’t solve the issue for her, and nor could I shelter her away from it. All I could do was hold onto her and hope she would be ready to face it.
​
Eventually, her voice broke me out of my reverie.
​
“We’ve got work today, Anon,” She murmured, cracking one eye open to look up at me dolefully. “We better get up.”
​
“Are you sure you don’t want to take the day off?” I asked. I wasn’t entirely sold on leaving her alone. I wanted to be there if she still needed me. “We’ve both got sick days. We can just stay home and take it easy, if you like.”
​
She looked almost scandalized. “We can’t do that, Anon. It’s not like school, people are depending on us to be there,”
​
“They’ll live without us for one day. That’s what days off are for.” I reminded her.
​
For a moment she considered, then reluctantly acquiesced. “I... I guess so. That would be pretty nice...”
​
“Alright, I’m going to call in then,” I said, leaning in to give her a peck on the cheek before I broke away from her and stood up. “Where’s your phone? I’ll grab it for you while I’m up.”
​
“Nah, I’ll get up,” I heard some of the life starting to return to her voice as she stood with me. “I want some breakfast anyway. Maybe I’ll just throw some nuggies in the oven...”
​
​
We spent the day together lazily, sitting on the couch in front of the television and watching whatever was on. It wasn’t exactly my usual idea of entertainment, but it was still the most relaxing day I’d had since my return. The clouds outside darkened the sky, threatening to rain, but inside our apartment it was warm and dry as we cozied up together on the couch.
​
I noticed Lucy’s interest starting to waver as I got up to make us some sandwiches for lunch. When I came back with plates in hand, she wasn’t even watching the show, just laying down and looking straight ahead.
​
“Here, Lucy,” I called her attention, proffering hers toward her.
​
She snapped herself back to reality and accepted it with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Anon. I was just trying to think,”
​
“What about?” I asked. “Trish?”
​
“Yeah. I’m still just... wondering what I would even say to her,” She shrugged morosely. “I used to think she was my best friend... Just me and her against the world, you know? And Reed when he came along. But now, I don’t even know exactly what I was to her.”
​
“What do you mean?”
​
“The way she pushed me around, the way she only cared about the band... The way she yelled at me... Was I ever even really her friend? Or just a tool to her? Just something she could use to make money?”
​
I found myself thinking back to that day in the principal’s office, after the sabotaged presentation. For everything else I’d managed to forget of that day, I still remembered clearly how distraught Trish had been before I’d left. “... I don’t know for sure, Lucy. But I think she was trying to be your friend. She just didn’t know how.”
​
Lucy was silent for a moment as she considered that. “I just really thought she had it figured out. I thought she had a plan, you know?”
​
“Yeah... But she was just a dumb kid, like the rest of us.”
​
“Dumber,” Lucy shook her head. “And I trusted her with so much. I don’t even know if that’s my fault or hers, do you know what I mean...? I don’t even know if it was wrong of me to do that. I don’t know how I’d start talking to her, because I don’t know how much I did wrong...”
​
She hauled herself up and started eating as I sat down next to her. Her bites were decidedly larger than mine – I’d taken precautions against this, however, and made her two sandwiches instead of one.
​
I was about to speak up when she continued.
​
“The fact is, I did do wrong, though. It’s as simple as that. I let myself get taken in. Even if she didn’t mean to control me, I couldn’t even stand up and tell her no. And eventually, I let myself get to the point I didn’t even realize what she was doing anymore.” She gave another slow shake of her head, her gaze falling dispiritedly down to her plate. “I don’t know if I want to talk to her again, Anon. I don’t know if I want to hear what she might say... because I’m scared I might fall for it again.”
​
“You’re stronger now, Lucy. Stronger than you think,” I reminded her gently. “I think, even if she really did just want to hurt you, you’d be able to walk away. Look at you. You have your own life now.”
​
“I...” She heaved a great sigh, looking distractedly ahead at the television. “I don’t feel like I’ve done that good with my life, Anon. I’ve just gotten by. Barely.”
​
“Even so, that’s more than a lot of people can manage sometimes. You can be proud of that if nothing else,” Even now I wondered what might have become of me if I hadn’t realized where I was heading that year. “And I think you’ve still got a lot more to give in your life, too.”
​
“Why?” She turned a nervous look to me. “What makes you think that? I don’t know what you see in me, Anon. I don’t feel like I’ve got anything in me.”
​
“I see a lot of things, Lucy. I see how you’ve done your very best – and done pretty well – no matter how hard it’s gotten.” I said seriously. “I see someone who cared for me when I still wasn’t even sure if I cared for me. Someone who’s a really rare kind of person, someone who’s worth caring for. Someone who really can make it, who really can go places if she wants to.”
​
Disquiet only settled deeper and deeper onto her face as I spoke, her lip trembling even as she tried to keep her gaze stoic. Almost on impulse I put my plate aside and shuffled over on the couch to draw her into a tight hug.
​
“I’m just so scared, Anon,” She whispered into my ear. “I’m so scared of falling apart again. I’ve already wasted so much of my life. I couldn’t do all that again. Not again.”
​
“You’ll be alright,” I murmured quietly. “I’m absolutely sure of that. You’re way tougher than you think.”
​
“Well, I don’t know that for sure. I don’t think I’m tough enough at all...” She clung to me desperately, wrapping her wings up around us in a big, feathery cocoon. “I’ve tried so hard to forget about how bad everything went in that last year, but it always keeps coming back no matter how much I want it to go away. I’ve tried to remember those good times I had with Trish, like you said, but the only thing I keep thinking of is lunchtimes, in the auditorium – and then I always remember when she started yelling...”
​
I remembered that, too. “It’s alright, Lucy. That shit she said –”
​
“She was right about one thing.” Lucy’s tiny voice cut through mine. “I am a nobody. I’ve got nobody... Except you. You, and mom and dad, and Naser... But I know I can trust you. You and my family, you’re the only ones who haven’t tried to screw me up. Or... or just done it without even realizing.”
​
“You are not nothing, Lucy. You’re not a nobody, and even if you were –” The thought of a hopeless Lucy – going nowhere, doing nothing for nobody, living in misery – occurred to me, making my stomach churn. I didn’t even want to entertain it. “Even if you were, you can always be more, Lucy. Don’t look at yourself like that. You’re a good person. You always have been.”
​
“I don’t know about that, Anon. I want to be, but... I just don’t know if I can.” She said glumly.
​
“I do. I know you can.” I insisted.
​
She gave me a small glance before looking away with an almost embarrassed-looking smile. “I’ll try to, Anon. All that stuff you said... I don’t feel like I have any of that in me. But I’ll try.”
​
“That’s one of the things I love about you. You always try,”
​
And she had, ever since I’d met her. No matter how hard things had been for her, she’d given it her best shot. She hadn’t always succeeded, or walked away unscathed – Prom night came to mind. But she’d tried hard, and she’d made it this far.
​
We turned our attention back to the screen, and slowly the relaxed ambience we’d had before returned to the room. Even so, I couldn’t keep my mind from running about some of the things she’d said as we cuddled up closer on the couch.
​
I couldn’t perfectly remember a whole lot of what I’d heard Trish say to her that day I’d foolishly agreed to Reed’s proposal to meet – or maybe I just didn’t want to, who could tell. Lucy, however, evidently hadn’t forgotten a word. ‘I’ve got nobody, but I know I can trust you’. That stuck in my mind. The way she said it so plainly, so matter-of-factly, as though it was something she’d just accepted and now held as truth. Did she really view other people so fearfully now? Had Trish scarred her so badly that she now simply couldn’t believe that anyone who got close might really want to help her?
​
It was possible. Maybe even probable. They’d been friends for so many years before I’d met her. Maybe retreating inwards and hiding from the world had been the only way she could cope with the betrayal. Distancing yourself from the pain was a good way to reduce its suffering. I’d ran away just like that before, but it had never actually helped me in the long run, and it clearly hadn’t helped Lucy.
​
I had to hope that what Trish had done wasn’t truly a betrayal – that she had just been misguided, not malicious. I hadn’t really liked her, I’d say that plainly. I’d never really gotten her figured out before I graduated, but I didn’t think she was a bad person.
​
I really hoped she wasn’t a bad person.
​
I took my eyes off the show I wasn’t watching to look over at Lucy. She seemed like she was doing alright now, as peaceful as we had been before lunch. She met my gaze.
​
“I love you, Anon.” She whispered quietly, a gentle shine in her eyes.
​
“I love you too, Lucy.”
​
My phone chose that time to ruin the moment, ringing its chime out abruptly. I cursed it even as I checked the screen to see who was calling. It was a number I didn’t recognize. My brows furrowed as I tried to think – I wasn’t sure who’d be calling me in lunch hours on a workday, especially when I wasn’t actually there.
​
“Hold that thought, Lucy. I better take this.” I said as I extricated myself from her arms and hauled myself up off the couch.
​
“Okay.”
​
I made my way out of the apartment, taking just a moment to appreciate how much colder it was outside before I hit answer.
​
“Hello?”
​
“Hey,” A vaguely familiar woman’s voice came from the other end. I couldn’t immediately place who it was; she sounded young, but oddly weathered and bitter, as though she’d been tired so long that had started to outright become her personality.. “Uh... This Anon?”
​
“Yeah,” I answered curiously. “Who’s this?”
​
“... It’s Trish. From high school,” She said hesitantly. I almost dropped the phone in shock. Her voice was near unrecognizable. And how the hell had she gotten my number? “... How’ve you been, skinnie?”
​
“I – You – Trish?” I couldn’t lie, she had me completely disarmed. “How did you...”
​
I had expected it to be difficult to find her, just going off of how obstinate she used to be. Surely she would have made herself impossible to find, that was just the kind of thing she’d do – Yet here she was, ringing me out of the blue, right after I’d been talking about her no less. Speak of the devil and she will appear, I suppose.
​
I wasn’t mad about the presentation thing anymore, not really. I’d had a lot worse shit than that happen to me over the years, these days I could just laugh off a couple of dumb cringy pictures. Besides which, I was pretty sure everyone had forgotten about that shit by now – except Stella anyway. But I could still remember the sheer disdain Trish had for me back then. I’d heard her screaming it out at the top of her lungs that day Reed had held me back in the auditorium.
​
She was the one calling me, though, so surely she’d have left it behind by now... Right?
​
“... get your number? Stella gave me it. She rang me out of the blue, the other day... Said you wanted to talk to me about Fang,” Trish said, then went silent for a moment. “Sorry. Lucy, that is. About Lucy.”
​
“Yeah, I –”
​
She cut over me. “How’s she going? Is she doing alright?”
​
I wasn’t sure exactly how much I should say. It wasn’t right to talk about Lucy behind her back, especially with someone she might not want to hear it. But at the same time, I could hear a slight note of urgent concern in Trish’s voice, genuine enough that I could believe it.
​
“She’s... not doing so well lately,” I said guardedly. “That’s actually the reason I was looking for you. I think you can help her. Do you still want to? Like you said back then?”
​
“Yes.” She answered instantly. “Yeah, absolutely. Of course I do. What does she need?”
​
“Do you remember what happened on prom night?”
​
“... Yeah. I don’t really fucking want to remember prom night, but yeah, I do.” She answered, bitterness coming back out in full force. “Why?”
​
I swallowed before I answered. “Look... She doesn’t say it, but I can tell she regrets how it all went down with you, especially after that night. She misses you Trish, you and Reed, and I think she needs your help. Do you regret –”
​
“Course I fucking do! What kind of question is that?” She snapped. “I was just trying to help. I said that to you.”
​
“ – then I think she needs to hear you say that.” I explained carefully. “You remember how I said maybe we could sort all this shit out another day, right...?”
​
Her response was a long time coming, but a lot less heated when it did. “Yeah. Do you want to meet up somewhere, then?”
​
“Not today, but yes,” I clarified hastily. I couldn’t just spring that on Lucy like that. “I’ll talk to her. Can I call you back on this number?”
​
“Yeah, just make sure you leave a message if I don’t answer and I’ll hit you back. I got my phone on silent pretty often.”
​
“Alright. I’ll talk to you soon, Trish.”
​
“Hope so, skinnie, cause I miss her too,” She said. I was about to hang up when she piped up again, sounding much more hesitant. “Hey, look, Anon... I, um... I know I never really apologized for that shit I did with the projector that day. I... I shouldn’t have done that, alright? I’m sorry.”
​
In spite of myself, some part of me had to know. “Why did you do it, Trish?”
​
“... Everything just started changing when you came on the scene, you know? I thought you were a bad guy. I thought you deserved it. But... I fucked up.” She said quietly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it.”
​
“... Don’t worry about it, Trish. It’s alright.” I thought I’d put it all behind me already, but it still warmed my heart to hear. She wasn’t the bitch I’d been afraid of – it gave me hope that just maybe this meeting would turn out okay.
​
“Alright. I just... I just feel bad, is all. I fucked everything up.” She sighed. “Anyway. Hit me back soon. Please.”
​
“Soon as I can, Trish. See you.”
​
I hung up and leaned against the wall for a second as I collected myself. Trish, out of nowhere, apparently contrite and penitent. A part of me didn’t want to believe it, to write it off as too good to be true. When I considered the Tirsh I’d known back at Volcano High it was possible – moreover plausible – that she would only be out to take over Lucy’s life again. But the part of me that recognized the truth couldn’t forget the tears in her eyes that prom night as she’d promised to leave Lucy alone, nor deny the earnest regret in her voice that I’d heard just now.
​
She barely sounded like the same person she’d been that year at all. She’d even apologized for the presentation incident, shit I’d already left long behind, when it profited her nothing to do so. If that wasn’t indicative of a change, I didn’t know what was. It made me think that it would be possible after all for Lucy to recover what she’d left behind again, as she had once before.
​
But it wasn’t my call to make either way, no matter what I thought. I made my way back into the apartment quietly. Lucy looked up as I entered.
​
“Who was it, Anon?” She asked with a quiet yawn.
​
“It was...” Again I hesitated. It was about to be another unpleasant conversation, but I knew better than to try and hide her away from the truth. “Well, you’re probably not going to believe who that was, Lucy. Let me sit down...”
​
​
​
The next morning, I was relieved to not wake up alone in bed. I turned my head to find Lucy laying still next to me, looking up at the roof. She bore a pensive expression, bordering on troubled, but she didn’t seem too stressed by whatever was on her mind. Not that it was hard to guess what that was.
​
A small smile graced her face as she looked over and found me awake as well. “Morning, Anon.”
​
“Morning, Lucy.” I mumbled with as much clarity as I could muster at that early point in the day. “Sleep alright?”
​
“Yeah, actually,” She said with a gentle exhale. “I was just thinking, and I realized you’re definitely right about something.”
​
“What’s that?”
​
“You’re right that I can take it. Whatever she’s got, I can take it. I won’t let myself break down again, like I did before.” She gave a determined, assuring nod, but the nervous breath she expelled told a more troubling story. “I still don’t know what I want to say, but I do know I want to hear what she says, so you know what? If you call her and tell her I want to meet up, I’ll do it.”
​
“You will?” I asked, taken aback by her sudden drive.
​
“Yeah, I will. That last year... That’s not the Trish I remember at all. I need to know why she changed, what the hell happened with her. I need to know... exactly how much of it all was my fault,” She reached out gave my hand a firm squeeze. “If she tries to pull anything again, I’ll just walk away – and that will be the end of it. I’ll let her go. Just a bad memory.”
​
The thought sent a spike of dread down my spine. I knew in my gut that if it came to that, it would not go over well. It would be rough weeks – or months, or years – ahead. For all that I loved her, the road she’d gone down these last few years was testament to the fact that she wasn’t very good at letting go like that, and even if she was, it wouldn’t do her any good to just let go of her best friend forever.
​
But I had to have faith in her. I called Trish as soon as we got up with Lucy’s answer, and to my surprise she actually picked up. She sounded tired and disgruntled at first, but she had trouble keeping her excitement out of her voice as we hashed out a plan to meet up that evening at Dino-Moe’s. The same place they’d held their first – and last – successful concert.
​
Work passed in a distracted blur. I wasn’t even really sure what I did that day. I just couldn’t keep my mind off the impending meeting. Worst case scenarios played out in my head over and over, competing for space against the hope that things could and would be okay. In my mind I heard Trish’s screaming ripping through the restaurant, just like it had the auditorium. I saw Lucy standing up, walking away, and never recovering.
​
I was fairly certain it wouldn’t come to that, given what I’d heard from the both of them last night and this morning, but I couldn’t be sure. Anything could go wrong.
​
I shared in Lucy’s nervousness as we drove to Moe’s old pizzeria. I still thought of it as that, even if he no longer owned the place. It felt almost nostalgic as I pulled up out the front, the inviting light of the restaurant brought me back to that happy night as though it hadn’t been nearly three and a half years. It seemed a lot quieter than back then, though – I could only see a few patrons inside.
​
Lucy kept a tight grip on my hand as we made our way over to the building. As we approached the front window she stopped and held me back for a moment. I glanced back to see her scanning through the window intently.
​
“There she is,” She breathed.
​
I followed her gaze. Trish was sitting alone at a table near the back corner of the restaurant, an untouched appetizer in front of her. She looked to be somewhat on edge, her gaze intense but focused on nothing in particular as she drummed her fingers on the table.
​
She didn’t quite look as tired as she’d sounded on the phone, but she definitely didn’t give the impression of the energetic, hair-trigger girl I remembered anymore. She was a little taller than I remember her, but only a little. She’d ditched the ever-present yellow hoodie in favour of a navy blue jacket, but still had the same old dreadlocks.
​
My immediate impression was that she’d changed – but I wasn’t sure how much.
​
Lucy seemed transfixed for a moment, her gaze inscrutable as she stared silently at her old friend through the window. Finally, though, with a deep breath and a heavy exhale, she pulled her eyes away. A resolute look was set on her face as she motioned towards the door.
​
“Come on, Anon. Let’s go.”
​
The bell chimed out as we pushed open the door, immediately prompting Trish to look up and see us. For a split second her eyes lit up as she saw Lucy.
​
“Hey! Hey, Lucy! Anon! It’s been so long!” She looked as though she wanted to jump up and meet us halfway, but had to restrain herself. “How have you guys been going?”
​
“Hey, Trish. Doing alright, I suppose.” I said non-committally as we sat down at her table. “How about you?”
​
“Not too bad! Been real busy the last few weeks,” She replied with a visibly forced smile. “How about you, Lucy?”
​
Lucy held her silence for a second before she hesitantly answered. “... I’m alright, Trish. It’s... It’s good to see you again.”
​
“Yeah, it’s great to see you guys doing alright!” Trish beamed. “What have you both been up to all this time?”
​
“I joined the army not long after school. I’ve been deployed overseas the last few years,” I stepped up to answer when Lucy seemed to hesitate.
​
For a moment the surprise on Trish’s face was actually genuine. “Wow, really? Huh, I wouldn’t have seen that coming. No wonder you look so jacked.”
​
“Army life tends to do that,” I remarked with a half shrug.
​
“No joke,” She said. “... What was it like? Was it bad?”
​
“I made it back in one piece. Let’s just leave it at that,” I shook my head. Even if I’d actually wanted to remember all that, this wasn’t the time.
​
Trish took the hint. “Damn. Well, I’m glad you’re alright at least, skinnie.”
​
She turned her eyes to Lucy then, with an inviting smile and a curious little tilt of her head. Lucy answered with a small smile of her own as she proffered her hand toward her. Trish’s eyes scanned back and forth across it a few times, uncomprehending until I stretched my own hand out as well. As she took in the two wedding rings on our fingers, her eyes just about popped out of her head.
​
“Oh! Oh, damn! You guys... You guys got married!?” Trish gasped. “Holy shit – I mean, god damn! Congratulations! Anon, you didn’t even mention that on the phone!”
​
“Wanted it to be a surprise,” I smiled and reached out to clasp Lucy’s hand in mine. Inwardly I was glad Trish hadn’t reacted adversely to the news. “We tied the knot a few months after I got back.”
​
“Damn. Congratulations...” She said again. She bore a smile of her own, but even as I watched it was quickly falling apart. As she looked at our rings, her face fell steadily into dismay, then into outright consternation, as though her whole world had just fell apart in front of her. “I, ah, I... I... I gotta say...”
​
“What’s up?” I asked, suddenly concerned for where this was going.
​
“I... I just want to say...” She gulped and looked down at the table, abruptly hiding her head in her hands. The veneer of happy, casual confidence she’d borne thus far had disappeared completely, and all of a sudden she just looked like she was on the verge of collapse. “I just... Shit, I’m so sorry, Lucy!”
​
Lucy was visibly caught off guard. She opened her mouth to say something, but Trish kept going with a quick breath.
​
“I’m so sorry! I should have been there, I should have been there at your wedding for you, but I wasn’t and it’s all because I was a fucking terrible friend,” She choked up, audibly keeping herself from sobbing. “I wasn’t at your wedding and I can’t even fucking blame you. Lucy, I’m so sorry...”
​
“Trish, I...” Lucy’s voice was conflicted.
​
“I’m so sorry for how I treated you, for all that stupid shit I did. You were my only real friend back then, Fang, I was so scared of losing you!” Trish cried out. Lucy cringed slightly at the mention of her old name, but she didn’t speak up. “And – And I didn’t want Naser or Anon to help you, cause I thought I could do it. I thought if you had them, you wouldn’t need me anymore! Nobody else ever liked me like you did back when we were kids! You were my only friend, and I wanted to help you, but if you didn’t need my help...”
​
She had her head all but buried down in her hands now, unable to so much as look at either one of us, quaking as repressed emotion escaped her. It occurred to me then that Lucy hadn’t been the only one suffering from old wounds those three years, that she hadn’t been the only one whose life had been terribly changed that semester.
​
“... then I’d be useless.” Trish’s voice cracked. “I just wanted to help you. I didn’t want to lose you... I’m so sorry...”
​
“Trish, I have to ask,” Lucy spoke softly, but surprisingly firmly. Trish looked up with watery eyes at the sound of her voice. “That stuff with my family, and Anon. With Naser. Why... Why’d you do all that? The way you treated them, the way you got me to treat them... that was so cruel.”
​
Again her face fell into her hands. “I know, but... every time I thought about it back then... Every time, I just remembered that time when you told me... when you told me you hated yourself. And that’s all I could ever remember! I thought it was all worth it if you had a new you that you could love, and... I thought everyone else would just pull you back to the old you, the you you hated. I only wanted to help you, but I didn’t realize... I just didn’t want to think... that you might not need me anymore. So I aimed bigger, I came up with big plans. I just thought we’d be famous, we’d be famous together, and I could show you how great you really truly are...”
​
I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. The worst part was that from a warped perspective, all of it made sense. I could see exactly how she’d gone wrong. All the horrible things she’d said and the devious shit she’d pulled – she’d gotten caught up in her own schemes, trapped in a hooked net she hadn’t even realized she’d been making, the wounds from which still bled both of them today. She hadn’t even realized how badly she was hurting Lucy, or herself.
​
She’d tried her best with what she had back then, but after all was said and done, she’d been nothing but a dumb kid.
​
“Every time I’ve thought of it, I’ve thought of how fucked up I was. I was so desperate for you to need me, that I thought it would be okay if you didn’t need anybody else. I thought I could make it all work. I thought I could turn your life around all on my own. I... I thought I had to, ‘cause nobody else could,” Tears of open regret flowed freely down Trish’s face now as she made her confession. “But I was wrong. I was wrong about everything. I was so stupid, and controlling, and I made you hate me ‘cause I was a fucking idiot, but Fang, I didn’t mean to. I know I don’t deserve to be your friend anymore, but I just had to tell you... I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to fuck it all up like I did. I just wanted to help you.”
​
I could see Lucy’s eyes glistening as her gaze fell to the table. Hell, I had to admit I could feel the waterworks starting unbidden in my own eyes. Again I had to wonder if this was a discussion that should have happened a long, long time ago.
​
“Trish...” Lucy murmured in a nervous, tremulous voice. “Trish, all this time I wasn’t even sure if you were ever my friend. I thought you were trying to trick me into something, just to... just to get rich or something, or something I couldn’t even think of, but I couldn’t ever figure out why you would do that all of a sudden. You... just wanted to help? You really... never hated me...?
​
“No! Never!” Trish shook her head emphatically, a stray tear flitting off her face. “I just thought if I planned a little better, if I was a little smarter, it would all pay off. We’d all work hard, and we’d be famous, and everyone would love us, and we’d all be happy. But everything started falling apart, and I just thought I had to work even harder because I was too scared and stupid to fucking think! I never meant –”
​
“Trish – It’s okay.”
​
Lucy surprised us both with those three words, and for a moment silence reigned at the table. She had a look on her face that I’d only ever seen once before, in all my time with her, on the roof of Volcano High. A look of quiet, grateful revelation. A look that might well have opened up the world before her, like she’d suddenly found the answer to a question that had haunted her forever.
​
She looked up and met Trish’s eyes.
​
“It’s okay, Trish.” Lucy repeated gently, the words escaping her almost like a sigh of relief. “You did... some fucked up stuff. But if it was really just a mistake, then... It’s okay. I... I should have realized you weren’t really like that. We were friends so long, and I still thought you just changed instead of trying to talk to you... I’m sorry...”
​
“Wha – Don’t apologize, you idiot! Why are you apologizing, when I’m the one who nearly fucked your life up?”
​
The both of them stood up almost simultaneously,making their ways around the table in step. Lucy put her hands on Trish’s short little shoulders, looking down with a careful, examining gaze – and then, I’ll swear the very next moment they were embracing, sobbing into each other’s arms, Trish blubbering wildly and Lucy faring little better.
​
“God, I’m sorry I yelled at you, I’m sorry I said all that shit, I’m sorry I ruined the band, I’m sorry for prom night –”
​
“It’s alright, Trish, I know, you were just trying to help, it’s alright, we’ll be alright –”
​
Desperate tears escaped Lucy as she held onto her oldest friend. The pair of them were almost swaying together as their outpouring overcame them. I could swear I felt my heart lightening as I looked on, a feeling of relief overtaking me as I practically saw the years of turmoil falling away from both of them.
​
It wasn’t as bad as I’d feared after all. Maybe it never had been. Maybe it didn’t need to have gone on like this for as long as it had. Maybe this painful path hadn’t needed to be walked for this long.
​
But it didn’t matter anymore. It was going to be alright.
​
Lucy caught my eye and waved me in towards them with one hand. Her voice quavered as she tried to laugh. “Come on, Anon. You come here too. Group hug. It’s about time you two kissed and made up.”
​
“God. Anon, I really am sorry,” Trish turned to me with a rueful look. “Those stupid pictures, that stuff I said about you... I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. I fucked up. I had you figured out wrong. I had everything figured out wrong.”
​
“It’s alright, Trish. Don’t worry about it,” I echoed Lucy, waving her off with a little smile. I joined their little circle against the world with an arm linked around them both, following Trish’s lead in leaning on Lucy’s shoulder. I didn’t care who in the restaurant might be looking at that point. “Everyone’s forgotten about it by now anyway. Except Stella... She remembers,”
​
Trish gave a choked-up laugh. “Of course she would. That weirdo, with her animes and stuff...”
​
“I... I think I had you figured out wrong too. I used to think you just hated me, that you were just... I don’t know. A bad person.” I said somberly. “But you’re not. You were just trying to help,”
​
“No, I was. I really was, back then.” She mourned. “Neither of you deserved all that shit I gave you. I got so caught up in my own bullshit, I forgot what being a friend is actually meant to be about. I fucked up so bad, you guys...”
​
“It’s alright, Trish. Don’t worry about it. It’s all in the past now, right?”
​
She looked up, her gaze flicking between Lucy and I, before a small smile finally spread across her face. “Right.”
​
“Right,” Lucy chimed in, a genuine smile on her tear-stained face.
​
We split back apart again, Trish looking up at us both with a hopeful expression.
​
“I’m starved. You guys – You guys want to get something to eat? Since we’re already here? We can catch up a bit. I’ll shout,” Even holding back tears, she already sounded so much more like the Trish I remembered.
​
Lucy spoke for us both as we nodded in unison. “Sure, Trish. Do you know if they still do the Meateor Special here?”
​
​
We made our way back into our apartment in better cheer than I remember being in a long time. Lucy finally seemed utterly relaxed, that beautiful serene expression I’d only seen on her face while she was asleep now finally gracing her waking hours. She leaned against me as made our way up the stairs, but not for support – solely for proximity. She moved now as though a weight had been taken off her shoulders, at peace with the world at last.
​
“I’m glad we went, Anon,” She murmured, flicking the light on as we crossed the threshold to our little home. “I’m glad you talked me into it. In hindsight, it feels so stupid... I can’t believe I would have run away from Trish forever over that. I got myself so worked up, but... she was just scared.”
​
“People do all kinds of things when they’re scared,” I said in concurrence.
​
“That they do.” She agreed quietly. “I... I’ve been scared all this time. I didn’t want to see her, because I thought she’d just hurt me again. But... I shouldn’t have been. I should have known better than that.”
​
“Don’t beat yourself up, Lucy,” I reassured her. “What’s done is done. We made it here alright. That’s what counts the most.”
​
“I know,” She said with a rueful laugh. “Just... makes me feel dumb, is all. Me and her, we were both scared of nothing in the end, and it nearly fucked us both up big time.”
​
Lucy split away from me, heading over to the closet where we kept the few things we hadn’t unpacked yet. I followed in her footsteps as she pulled it open, and carefully extracted...
​
... her old guitar. The instrument that she once hadn’t been able to give any excuse not to bring, now held happily again in her capable hands.
​
“Lucy...” I whispered, struck by what it meant.
​
“I wonder if she’d ever want to play again. Like old times...” Her whisper was just barely audible, but the gleam in her eye was plain to see as she turned back around to face me. “Anon, you remember our song, right?”
​
“I couldn’t ever forget, Lucy.” That song had been pretty much the only thing keeping me going at some points.
​
“I want to play it,” She said breathlessly, looking up at me with an exhilarated smile. “Just... bear with me for a bit, alright? I gotta try and get back in gear first.”
​
“Alright,” I laughed.
​
Lucy plucked away at the strings as we relocated to the bedroom and sat down together on our bed. Just as she had with the church organ, she spent a few minutes at practice, strumming through melodies as she reacquainted herself with the strings she’d used to hold dear. I tried to follow her motions with my eyes – she’d taught me a lot about playing guitar, but even out of practice as she called herself, I wasn’t anywhere near her level.
​
Finally she seemed satisfied, letting her last note hang for a moment before giving a light chuckle. “Alright. Let’s just see how I go, here.”
​
She began slowly, gently, quietly strumming the song into the air with a never-forgotten artist’s ease. In an instant I was taken away, and the rest of the world ceased to exist. The steady, peaceful motions of her hands and the intent focus in her eyes were the most beautiful contrast I’d ever seen in the world as she brought back times I’d thought I might only ever visit again in my memories.
​
It was like those three years apart hadn’t passed. It was like we were still there, in her room, sitting together as we composed this song. At this very moment it was the pinnacle of everything we shared together. She poured her soul into it as she moved from bar to well-remembered bar, her careful motions allowing the music to fill the room with its quiet, reflective tone.
​
Everything we’d gone through together was in that song. If she’d looked up she might have seen my very soul bare on display, just as much as hers was – but the music was her entire world in that moment, exactly as it was mine.
​
She’d suffered in her silence. In her fear she’d muted herself, deprived herself of an undeniable part of her – but now, this melancholy rendition of our song was offered up as a testament to who she truly was, no matter the years lost.
​
She’d changed. She’d endured. She’d grown.
​
“You’re crying, Anon.” Her voice pulled me out of my reverie.
​
I looked up away from the guitar at last. I hadn’t even noticed she’d stopped playing – the melody still echoed in my head, trying to pull me away back to simpler times. Her own eyes were glistening wet, a shaky smile on her face.
​
“No, it’s just raining,” I sniffed. “Heh. Hey, Fang. How’ve you been?”
​
“Hey, don’t – don’t call me that, Anon,” She gave a hiccuping laugh, before shaking her head quickly. “God, you don’t want me to be Fang again, do you? I was so... so edgy back then,”
​
“I want you...” I grasped her by the shoulders, looking firmly into her glistening amber eyes, “... to be happy with exactly who you are, and what you do. I don’t want you to leave any part of you behind.”
​
“I just... I was so stupid back then...” She sniffed. “So scared of... So angry with myself. I did so much stupid shit. I can’t believe I let things get like that...”
​
“It wasn’t your fault, Lucy. We were all stupid. I still loved you then. I still love you now.”
​
“Not all of us. You weren’t stupid.” She said with a little smile.
​
“I don’t think I was any smarter than you. Just... I dunno. Really lucky, I guess,” I murmured and pulled her into a hug. The guitar was set aside as she wrapped her wings tightly around me. I always felt like the world was a million miles away when she did this. “Well, I must have been. I met you, after all.”
​
“Oh, don’t be so goddamn cheesy,” She said with another short laugh before she breathed out, audibly struggling to keep from choking up. “It’s just so stupid... I never felt like it was mine, this guitar. Ever since that day, it might as well have been Trish’s. I just thought... it was what she wanted out of me. All she wanted out of me, you know? The music. But I didn’t want to give it to her anymore. I didn’t want to remember her. That’s why I wanted to put it away.”
​
“But she was just as dumb as us. Didn’t know how to say what she really wanted,” I whispered. I felt Lucy’s heart beating as we embraced, strong and sure in spite of this precious, fleeting state of being.
​
“And neither did I,” Lucy shook her head and sobbed. “I’ve been so stupid. It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t either of our faults...”
​
“Don’t worry, Lucy. We’ll be alright now.”
​
“Yeah... You’re right. We will,” She said, a firmness in her voice even as it wavered. “I’m going to do better from now on, Anon. No more falling apart like I did after school. No more being afraid. I want to be the best person I can, and I want to make you happy like you’ve made me happy.”
​
“You already do that every day, Lucy.”
​
“Stop being so sappy, god damn,” She shoved me with a weak laugh. “I’m trying to have a moment here.”
​
“Well, Lucy, alright then –” I struggled for a moment to think of something. “I promise I’ll help you be the best person you can, in any way I can. I promise I’ll make you exactly as happy as you make me. How’s that?”
​
“Perfect. Thank you,” She whispered. “For everything.”
​
“No, Lucy,” I pulled back for a moment to look at the woman who’d pulled me out of my shell at last. “Thank you.”
​
“Thought I said to stop being sappy.” She said with a snort of reluctant laughter.
​
“Yeah, well, you’re one to talk, aren’t you?” I pointed out, unable to keep a smile from creeping across my own face as well.
​
She considered for a moment before laughing again. “Yeah. I guess I am.”
​
We didn’t bother to get back up, to get changed out of our clothes, or even to put the guitar back. We fell back onto the bed and we fell asleep that night exactly where we were, exactly as we were, cuddled up together on top of the blankets.
​
The ceiling light was still on, but it wasn’t a bother to us. We didn’t even notice. The light Lucy and I shared between us was bright enough to match it.
​
We had each other.
​
​
​
The sound of gentle strumming and the smell of cooking food hit me as I opened the door, immediately setting me at ease as I stepped into the apartment. Every other day since we met Trish a week or so ago, I’d come home to the pleasant sound of Lucy playing her guitar. One time I’d managed to sneak in quietly enough that she hadn’t even noticed, wrapped up in her jam session as she was. I’d sat there and listened for a good few minutes until she’d finally looked up and noticed me.
​
This time however she heard me enter, immediately breaking off from her song and giving me a warm smile.
​
“Hey, Anon! There you are!” Lucy stretched and ruffled her wings as she stood up off the couch, still holding her guitar in one hand. “Late again, I see. Gonna have to dock your pay if you keep this up,”
​
We shared a quick peck on the cheek. “Hey. Sorry, Lucy. It’s this event still... You wouldn’t believe how much paperwork there is just to get a spot at a college expo organized.”
​
“Not sure I’d want to, either,” She said with a good-humoured snicker as she put her guitar away on its metal stand. She’d gone out and bought it a few days ago, just so she could have her instrument on display in the living room. “I was just getting in some practice while I waited for dinner to finish cooking... It should be just about ready by now, I think. I thought we’d have a nice little potato bake tonight.”
​
“Sounds good to me. Your cooking’s always the best, Lucy.” It wasn’t even an exaggeration, I was practically spoiled with her around. I hung my keys up and followed her as she sauntered off into the kitchen, eagerly anticipating whatever she’d made.
​
She picked up her phone and briefly checked something on it. “Oh. Nope, timer says five more minutes, actually. Sorry.”
​
Damn. I had to admit, the smell alone was quickly making me hungry. “Oh, well. How was your day?”
​
“Pretty good, actually! Trish called earlier, while I was cooking.”
​
That caught my interest. Trish and Lucy seemed to be slowly rekindling their friendship, keeping in touch online and over the phone. I didn’t know exactly what they talked about – catching up on old times and girl stuff, presumably. It wasn’t any of my business, and I wasn’t too worried. I doubted Trish would do anything to jeopardize the relationship she’d just recently salvaged, but even so, I hoped she wouldn’t go on to try and rekindle their friendship in exactly the same way they’d had it before. Lucy just didn’t need that kind of help anymore.
​
I knew she was stronger now than she had been back then, just like I’d said to her. I didn’t think Trish would act like someone who needed handling – I really hoped she wouldn’t – but if she did, Lucy could handle it. I had faith in her.
​
“Yeah? What’d she call about?” I asked.
​
“Well, she’s been talking to Reed. Apparently they kept in touch,” She explained as she started setting the table. “He’s moved out of Volcaldera for his work. I think she says it’s something pharmaceutical, not exactly sure what... But either way, she got him to agree to come visit at some point. What do you reckon?”
​
“That’d be... interesting. Pharmaceutical, huh?” I wasn’t sure exactly what to make of that. Given the stuff Reed had been into when I’d known him, ‘pharmaceutical’ could mean anything under the sun. I remembered him being pretty cool though, if maybe a bit too laid back. Or way too laid back sometimes. “It’d be good to catch up with him, I suppose. See what he’s been up to and all.”
​
“Yeah... Also, Trish is coming over for dinner.” Lucy said abruptly, turning to me with a cheeky smile.
​
“Oh. Sounds good. When?” I was a little taken aback. I hadn’t expected either of them to reconnect to quite this degree quite this fast, honestly.
​
Again she picked her phone up and checked the time. “Well, she said she’d be here about twenty minutes ago, so probably soon, I’d hope.”
​
“Wait – She’s coming tonight?”
​
I found myself somewhere between shocked and impressed. It was great that Lucy was beginning to let people back into her life, instead of only having her work and... me. Just a few short weeks ago I was worried that she’d never open up again – it really felt like she had left a piece of her soul behind, that year at Volcano High. But now, she was already reaching out, making plans to meet up with friends of her own volition. Her old friend, with all the baggage they’d shared, no less. She was moving past it at a phenomenal rate.
​
“Yep,” Her smile fell slightly. “You don’t mind, right...?”
​
“No, not a bit, Lucy,” I reassured her hastily. “Just a bit surprised, is all.”
​
“Yeah... Sorry, I probably should have said something beforehand,” She said sheepishly. “I just wanted it to be a bit of a surprise.”
​
I was about to reiterate that it was fine when Lucy’s phone buzzed loudly. As she checked it, I heard an abrupt knocking at the door, but before I could so much as move a muscle she’d dropped her phone down on the table and dashed past me excitedly.
​
“That’s her now, she just messaged me!” She said exuberantly as I followed along in her wake.
​
“She messaged you she’s at the door, then knocked anyway?” I asked confusedly.
​
Lucy turned and shrugged as she unlocked the door. Trish was in fact just behind it, dressed in a sharp but modest skirt and jacket. She tucked her phone back into her pocket as she greeted us with a tired smile.
​
“Hey, Lucy! Sorry I’m late, work was a bitch and so was traffic. Didn’t even bother going home to get changed, just thought I should probably come right over,” She said apologetically.
​
“Don’t worry, you’re not the only one. Anon was late too,” Lucy gave a smile of her own as she stood aside to let Trish in. “It’s good timing, anyway, actually! Dinner will be done in a few minutes if you just hang tight.”
​
“Cool, I’m starving like you wouldn’t believe. Haven’t eaten since breakfast,” Trish remarked with a faux carefree air as she stepped into our little home. Her eyes fell on me as she made herself look busy inspecting the place, and she gave me a polite nod. “Hey, Anon. How you going?”
​
“Good, thanks, Trish. We’ve been doing alright,” I stepped aside to let Lucy past, brushing her wing with one arm as she made her way back to the kitchen and left us two to make our own conversation. “A lot better lately, especially. How are you? You look like you’re being run ragged.”
​
“Busy as hell. Trying to expand the salon, but it’s hell juggling keeping the place going and running around to offices all over town.” She shook her head then gave a resigned shrug. “Ah, well. Work must be giving you hassles too if you’re coming home late, huh? ... Remind me what do you do again, sorry?”
​
“Recruitment, now. Technically it’s still duty, but it doesn’t much feel like it,” I said casually. “Just been having issues getting some stuff sorted out with an event in a few weeks. Paperwork and stuff, you know,”
​
“Oh, yeah. I know what you mean, paperwork’s been my nightmare lately,” She said with a knowledgeable nod. “Like, things have been going great at work, but I want to go bigger. There’s a serious gap in the market around here for horn cosmetics, you know? But now I’m almost thinking it’s more trouble than it’s worth. All the licenses and stuff you need, it’s insane...”
​
“You need a loicense to paint horns now as well?” Inwardly I laughed, thinking of an old joke I’d shared with Lucy.
​
Trish gave me a confused look for a moment but didn’t bother to ask. “Not just painting, Anon. Extensions, reshaping, hollowing, that kind of stuff.”
​
“Wait, what? Hollowing? Isn’t that dangerous?” I asked uncertainly. “It sure sounds dangerous.”
​
“Not in the slightest! No more dangerous than nail cosmetics, and people do all kinds of crazy shit with them,” Trish said insistently as she shook her head. I got the feeling she’d had this conversation a bunch of times with other people already. “In some ways a horn is just a really big nail, anyway. There’s a ton of room to do some creative shit with them, I swear, but most people won’t even think of trying it.”
​
“Well, it sounds like you’re going to have a hell of a job convincing people. From my layman’s perspective, first thing I think of when I hear that is that it sounds like surgery.” The sounds of dinner being plated drew me into the kitchen, with Trish following along right behind me as we talked.
​
“You can see the other half of the issue I’m having, then. No idea whatsoever about how I’m gonna advertise this stuff...” She groused. “Still, I know I’m onto something. Just have to hash it out a bit more.”
​
“Well, I hope you can figure something out.” I said sympathetically.
​
“Thanks, Anon,” She smiled. Her face practically lit up as she entered the kitchen. “Holy shit, Lucy, this smells great! What is it?”
​
“Just a potato bake. Keeping it simple tonight,” She answered, a slightly flustered flush visible from the praise.
​
“God damn. I think I’m gonna have to come around here more often,” Trish marvelled, her eyes fixed covetously on the pan of fresh-baked goodness Lucy was serving up. “I usually just have microwave dinners, if anything.”
​
“Yeesh, Trish, don’t do that to yourself,” Lucy chided. “That stuff’s awful for you. It’s not too hard to cook something quick up yourself, you know.”
​
The three of us took a seat as Lucy finished dishing up with a flourish. Trish immediately picked up her knife and fork and made to dig in, but Lucy waylaid her with a slap on the hand and a sharp look.
​
“Hey! We say grace before we eat in this house. Or apartment as it might be.”
​
A look of pure, devastated disappointment fell onto Trish’s face as she was forced to restrain herself a moment longer. “Oh. Sorry. Uh... I didn’t know.”
​
Somehow I managed to constrain myself to a clandestine smile. Mollified, Lucy withdrew her arm and clasped her fingers together, closing her eyes in simple reverence.
​
“Dear Lord, we give thanks to you this evening for the meal we are about to eat. Amen.” She picked up her knife and fork and looked over to Trish, who was still glancing between us uncertainly. “... You can eat now, Trish.”
​
“Oh thank God, for a second there I was worried you had to like, recite a whole prayer or something,” As soon as she heard the word, Trish started attacking her food with gusto.
​
I bemusedly watched her go as I picked up my own cutlery. “You sure they’re not starving you, Trish?”
​
“Dude, like I said. I haven’t had anything to eat except breakfast today,” She said between mouthfuls. “Had to skip lunch... This is really good, Lucy.”
​
“Thanks, Trish. It really sounds like you should take some more time for yourself, though... Skipping meals and microwave dinners, that can’t be healthy,” Lucy said with a tone of concern.
​
“Well, it’s not gonna be like this forever. I just got a fair bit going on with work,” She shrugged indifferently. “I don’t really know anything about cooking anyway, though.”
​
“I could teach you, if you want,” Lucy offered, leaning in earnestly. “We could hang out some day and I’d show you a bit. It’s not too hard.”
​
Trish actually paused in her rapacious eating to consider it. I could only imagine she was wondering at the depths of how much her friend had changed over the years, because now I thought about it myself, it had to be somewhat of a shock to her. From the edgy punk rocker person she’d been molded into, to the woman she was now.
​
She looked up to meet Lucy’s eager eyes, and after a moment, a genuine smile spread across her face. “Yeah, sure. That’d be cool.”
​
The conversation brought up a memory to my mind. “Oh, that reminds me, Lucy. You remember Stella? I was talking to her the other week, she said that she and Rosa would be down to meet up for lunch or something at some point, if you wanted to catch up. What do you think?”
​
“Sure, might be fun. I haven’t talked to either of them for a long while...” She nodded thoughtfully. “I wonder how they’re doing these days.”
​
“Hey, I got a thought,” Trish piped up, pulling herself away from her already mostly cleared-out plate. “If we could get Reed in town for it, maybe we could all go out together and make it a big do. Like a little mini class reunion or something. Go out and grab some dinner somewhere, you know?”
​
“That’s not a bad idea,” I nodded. It would be good to be able to catch up with everyone at the same time. “We’d just have to organize a date that works for everyone.”
​
“Yeah, I’ll have to talk to Reed, I don’t even really know when he’s free. Also, can I grab seconds? This is really, really good.”
​
Lucy gave a snort of laughter. “Help yourself, Trish. Just don’t eat it all, alright?”
​
The rest of the meal passed with amicable conversation as Trish finally slowed down enough to speak like a normal human being – or dino, as it were. The three of us talked about work, swapped stories and shot the shit like the three years of angst behind us simply hadn’t happened at all. We even managed to while away another hour or two afterward chatting. Lucy laughed and smiled freely the whole while, as unreservedly happy as I’d ever seen her.
​
It wasn’t just that she had her friend back, so much as that she seemed to have her self back. She was still in the process of shedding the years of bitterness, but at least she was finally able to do so. It might be a long road yet that she had to walk, but already she’d proven that she was capable of more than she thought, and that she had people beyond her immediate family who were willing to help her. She’d shown herself that she didn’t need to be afraid of herself, of people, of the world. I believed that knowing that – knowing it with the certainty of truth and taking it in as a part of her, not merely being told by someone else – made a world of difference.
​
When the time came that Trish finally decided to call it a night and head home, Lucy sent her off with a hug. Trish returned it nervously at first, but soon looked like she didn’t want to let go, closing her eyes tightly as she held onto her.
​
“We should do this again soon, alright Trish? I’ve really missed seeing you.” Lucy said softly.
​
“I’ve missed you too, Lucy...” Trish replied, her voice doleful. “I really am sorry. I wish I’d never –”
​
“Don’t worry about it, Trish. Please.” Lucy insisted as they separated again. “I’m doing alright now. We’re all doing alright now. That’s what matters.”
​
“Yeah... You’re right.” She gave a hesitant smile. “See you later, Lucy. Bye, Anon. It was nice seeing you guys again.”
​
“Same to you, Trish. See you.”
​
As Lucy and I saw Trish off, content with an evening of good food and good company, I realized all of a sudden just how much less bleak everything had really felt lately. Looking back, my memories since my return almost felt pale to me – hopeful, but not really happy. Now, I found myself actually looking forward to tomorrow for how it would be as we had it, not for how it might be better in future.
​
I didn’t fear for Lucy anymore. I didn’t need to, and she didn’t need me to. It had been a dark few years, but from where we stood now, it all looked a lot brighter.