Chapter Four- Phil:

Iâve never been one to be nervous. When I was in third grade, I was cast as Romeo in my schools adaptation of Romeo and Juliet- called "Check Yes Julliet". I'd walked up onto the stage to perform my lines, and had done it with so much gusto that I'm pretty sure all the grandmas in the audience wept their little grandma eyes out. When I was fourteen, I went to this kids birthday party and held twelve snakes- and didnât even flinch- impressing quite a lot of girls. Even just last year I sang a song in front of the whole school during a stupid talent show just to get with a girl. The point was, I wasn't particularly shy.

But driving home with Howell in the front seat of my 1920 Mercedes Benz, his hand fidgeting nervously and eyes downcast, had my stomach in an uproar of fluttering wings. I felt like a silly high school girl asking her crush out on a date. Which was totally not what this was.

After Howellâs melt down in the locker room and my sexual joke, that had him stumbling back, blushing like he was made for it, and signing apologies out the wazoo, Iâd said:

âIf youâre done freaking out now, we could go back to my place and hang out for a bit.â

Dumb, stupid fucking Phil Lester.

I was pretty sure part of the reason my parents moved around so much- though Iâm sure they would never admit it- was because they thought I was a loner. Iâd never had a close friend or a steady girlfriend- which to be honest was pretty impractical with my current living situation. However, despite my parents beliefs, I still managed to have some sort of social life. Just- you know- not home related.

Any flings Iâd had took place strictly at the girls houses or- if in a rush- weâd end up getting handsy in the back of a school supply closet. Any friends Iâd had were usually the social delinquents of the school. Weâd bide our time either going to the cinema and throwing popcorn at the people in the rows in front of us, or standing huddled in an alley, smoking a joint while I pretended to be interested in my shoelaces.

None of the people Iâd met had ever made their way into what I called âthe family levelâ. I didnât see the point of getting close to anyone if I was just going to leave in the next couple of weeks. And obviously there was the whole thing with my parents- inevitably they would make a huge deal out of it. I could just picture it now, my mum getting all weepy and dad patting me on the back and saying âgood job, sonâ like we were in some 80âs tv show where everyone said âgoly!â and âgee whiz!â and wore excessive amounts of button up shirts.

âSo Howell,â I said, shaking my head, trying to erase the Pleasantville like world I was currently imagining. âI take it youâre not big on people. What do you like to do in your free time?â

Howell looked over at me blankly like the thought of free time was unknown to him.

âYou know, when youâre not at school, duffus. What do you like to do? Draw? Mope? Wank?â

Even though I wasnât looking at him, I could tell he was blushing.

I glanced over at him.

I knew what you meant, he signed, his cheeks rosy red. I just was thinking.

He paused as if deep in thought.

âIâm waiting bated breath over here, you know,â I said.

Howell rolled his eyes. I donât know, I like to draw and listen to music.

I gasped dramatically. âWhat?! You listen to music?â I said grabbing the area of chest over my heart. âGee Willikers, son! You sound almost like a real boy.â

I heard Howellâs muffled laugh as he tried to cover his mouth with his hands fisted in his grey jumper.

I smiled, turning back to the road. Compelling though it was, getting into a car crash instead of facing the humiliation of my parents, wasnât on the top of my âto-do listâ.

âSo how does that work?â I asked, watching Howell out of the corner of my eye. âThe whole not talking thing. I mean, you can laugh and make noises and stuff, but not talk? I thought if you couldnât talk that meant your vocal cords were damaged or somethinâ?â

I pulled up to the front of my house, and the edge of my tires grinding the corner of the pavement as Howell mulled over my question- or ignored it. Either was possible when it came to Howell.

I shifted the car into park and turned off the engine as I looked over at him.

âHowell?â I prompted.

He lifted his left hand ready to sign before he curled it into a fist and shook his head.

I sighed. I admit I was slightly disappointed, but I wasnât going to be an idiot and push Howell when he didnât want to talk about something- I wasnât Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.

âThatâs fair.â I said. âI know some things are personal. But, before we go in I forgot to tell you something,â I continued, rubbing my hand on the back of my neck. âIâve never really brought anybody home before, so Iâm guessing my parents are going to be a bit âoh look hereâs Philâs baby bookâ and âwould you like another cup of tea or a jumperâ and âoh dearyâ. Jesus fucking Christ thereâs going to be a Iot âoh dearyââs.â

I closed my eyes and rubbed my hands over my face- just trying to mentally prepare myself for the bombardment that was going to come.

âOkay,â I said at last, opening the car door. âLetâs go.â

I walked up the front steps as I heard Howellâs door close and his hesitant foot steps behind me. I pulled out my keys from my pocket and stuck them in the lock.

âHey mum,â I said as I opened the door. âIâm home.â

I pushed Howell in front and closed the door behind me as I slammed my back against it.

âPhillllllll,â I heard as Neil tromped towards us, stopping abruptly when he saw Howell.

âWhoâs that?â Neil said accusatory, pointing at Howell with his tiny index finger.

âWhoâs who?â my mum said popping into the hallway.

I knocked my head against the door again, shutting my eyes. Penny in the air.

âThis is Dan Howell,â I ground out, eyes still closed.

âOh! This is so nice! Weâve never met one of Philâs friends before!â

Penny drops.

I opened my eyes. âYeah, Howell and I are just going to hang out in my room for a bit.â I said, grabbing Howellâs hand and dragging him past my mum and Neil who was still pointing repeatedly like he was pressing a button.

âMum! Look! Look! Phil has an actual friend.â Neil said.

âYes, yes, I see honey,â my mum responded. âAnd before you go Phil,â she continued, stopping us before we could make a dash to the safety of my room. â Dan, will you be staying for dinner?â

Howell looked between my mum and I, eyes wide, probably feeling caught in the middle of the complete mess that this situation was turning out to be.

âYes heâll be staying for dinner,â I grumbled, saving Howell the trouble of answering as I tugged at his arm again.

âWonderful!â my mum said, clapping her hands together. âOh and Meredith and Jeremy will be here a little later, alright?â

âFine, fine,â I said clomping up the stairs, Howell stumbling up behind me.

âHave fun dearies!â

I turned and pointed at Howell as he tried to contain his laughter. âYou see? This is what I was afraid of. This is why I donât do this.â I whispered angrily, waving the air between us.

I pushed Howell into my room and shut the door, as I collapsed onto my bed face first.

âDieu merci, c'est fini,â I mumbled into my mattress. Thank god that was over with.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, as I rolled over on my side.

âWhat?â I said, as I saw Howell standing over me, making me grin widely. âNever been in a boys room before?â

He rolled his eyes. Youâd do well to remember I am one, you know. No, I was just going to ask when you were planning on telling me you were a writer.

âWhat?â I asked again, confused.

Howell pointed to my desk, to the notebook lying open on top of it.

âOh, nah. Iâm not a writer. Itâs more of a hobby, really.â I said sitting up and walking towards the desk. I scooped up the notebook in one hand, and leafed through it with the other. Howell stood silently next to me, trying to read over my shoulder.

I flipped the pages faster, and I heard him make an annoyed sound.

âWhatâs the matter, Howell?â I asked, smiling a little.

Will you stop being such a jerk and just read me something? Howell signed, his tone conveying exasperation, adding after a thought, Please?

âFine, fine,â I said surprising myself.

Howell nodded, walked over to my bed and sat down, rubbing the folds out of his jeans with his worried hands. I took a seat opposite him in my desk chair, propping my right ankle on my left knee.

I flipped through a couple more pages before I found the story Iâd written in my head in art class, while I was looking out the window at the crows.

I looked up at Howell once more before I shrugged my shoulders. Might as well do two new things in one day, I thought.

I cleared my throat and began to read:

âThree egomaniacs sit in the back of the room, laughing like crows cawing at rocks. Their brains made of needles popping bubbles like him and pounds of leftover lasagna- the hundred and eighty pounds of it they just ate for lunch. They huddle together, their cult talking about how much pussy they get like theyâre discussing their marble collection- of which they don't have.

âA fourth boy- younger and wiser than the three put together- sits and learns, silently disagreeing but staying mum in fear. In fear that the three dumb crows will pick his dead carcass. But sometimes when the crows go out to play, they wear invisible suits disguised as boys, their ugly outlines hidden from adult eyes.

âAnd finally one day the boy left, flew away to see worlds where he didnât have to pretend he was a cruel, stupid crow that popped bubbles like him.â

I stared at the paper. I had forgotten how much of myself I had put into this story. Iâd written the night after Iâd sketched Howell.

Howell.

I kept my head down, eyes on the paper. I didnât want to look up. I could feel the heat on my cheeks, and Howellâs questions looming. For once, I was happy he couldnât speak.

âBoys!â my mum called up. âDinnerâs almost ready. And Meredith and Jeremy are here!â

I nodded to myself and stood, still not looking at Howell.

âWe should, uh, we should go down stairs,â I said, trying to get a grip. Too many things had happened today- seeing Howell this morning, his whole weird break down thing, taking him home, and now this.

I tromped down stairs, mind lost, Howellâs foot steps close behind me.

We walked into the kitchen neither one of us saying a word- though for Howell that wasnât unusual.

âThere they are!â my mum said, opening her arms wide. I looked over at Jeremy and Meredith, both seated at the breakfast bar- per usual.

âDude, what happened to your face?â Meredith said as she looked up, pointing to my eye.

âOh Phillip!â my mum said, coming over to me and grabbing my face with her hands. âHave you been getting into fights again? Who did this to you?â

As she turned my head from left to right, glancing disappointedly at the purple bruise around my eye socket- the one Iâd forgotten about. I saw Howell looking sheepish, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

âNah, it was just some bloke, Iâll fine.â I said, as I made eye contact with Howell, signaling that we would be talking about that whole thing later.

âOui! Itâs the kid from earlier!â Jeremy said, popping up from in the fridge, an apple in his hand, the other on the edge of the fridge door. âHello, sorry, Iâve forgotten your name. What was it again?â

âThatâs Dan Howell,â I said, again saving Howell the trouble of answering. Howell gave a little wave to Jeremy, that star stuck expression when they met earlier returning.

âWell, consider yourself lucky mate,â Jeremy said, ducking back into the fridge. âPhil has never brought anyone home, so youâre the first.â

Mum nudged him. âDonât embarrass the poor boy, Jer. Phil,â she said turning to Howell and I. âCould you and Meredith get the plates from the cabinets, and Dan deary- do you need a jumper of anything?â

I could see him trying not to smile.

âHeâs fine mum,â I said exasperatedly.

âHe can answer for himself,â my mum said, placing a hand on her hip.

âNo he canât mum, he canât speak.â I said.

The room was quiet for a moment.

I looked over at Howell. He looked shocked, and slightly worried- which made me worried.

Stercore im tam stupidi.

âOh,â my mum said softly, removing her hand from her hip. She looked at it a moment before she raised it and signed Hello.

And Howell, man, it was like he had been given the entire universe, his face lighting up, his smile so wide, it seemed impossible, full with dimples as deep as craters on the moon.

Could you maybe set the table for me? mum signed, picking up a stack of napkins and forks, and holding them out to Howell.

He nodded vigorously at her, grabbing the bundle and heading in the wrong direction of the dining room.

I chuckled as mum redirected him and as my sister stepped up next to me, shoulder to shoulder.

âYour friendâs weird.â she said. âIn a good way though. It suits him.â

âYeah,â I said.

âYou know,â Meredith said after a beat. âDo you remember that day we went to the carnival during summer and you got your cards read?â

I nodded. I was thinking of the exact same thing.

Last summer, mum and dad took the three of us to a carnival outside of the town we were currently occupying. They had a fair set up for the weekend and our parents took us as a surprise. They had rides that made you dizzy until you were sick, food dipped in unhealthy amounts of grease, circus people decked out in more stripes then should be allowed- the whole lot.

Meredith at the time, was obsessed with tarot and had somehow convinced me to go get my fortune told with her.

We'd walked into the tent to find a round table with a black cloth draped over it, a crystal ball resting to the right, tarot cards to the left. Behind the table sat a large woman with a long hook nose, and dark eyebrows. Her purple gown was elegant and drapey- though it probably could have fit three of me inside it.

She'd gestured towards the two stools in front of the table and said, Would we sit down please? in a heavy voice, one that carried untold wisdom.

We'd sat as she'd spread cards in front of us, her eyes closed as she'd muttered under breath- stirring up spirits or reminding herself of stuff she had to get at the grocery store- either one was an option in my sceptical mind.

She'd done Meredith's reading first, telling her about her past and future and other superficial things like how many kids she was going to have, and when she was going to meet her true love. Dumb stuff like that.

Then the woman had turned to me, eyes squinted like she was trying to read fine print, and had told me to brush my hands over the cards and pick one. I did as instructed.

I'd trailed my index finger over the cards before selecting on. Iâd flipped it over to reveal a upside down drawing of a stout man, sitting on a brown bench. Heâd had a red cap on his head, a set of nine golden cups stacked behind him.

Ahh, sheâd said. The Cup of Nines reversed. You have had much disappointment in past relationships, feeling as though you are missing something.Youâve been over sentimental and careless, neglecting you partner and their wishes.

Iâd nodded, not sure what else to do. Part of that was true, however I hadnât though Iâd been neglecting any girls, if you catch my drift.

Pick another. sheâd instructed.

Iâd done as told and drawn again, handing her the result. Itâd been a drawing of a knight with golden hair, riding a chestnut stallion, some sort of twig grasped in his hand. The womanâs lips had curled as sheâd looked at the card.

Oh, well isnât that interesting. sheâd said.

What? Whatâs interesting? Meredith had asked, gripping the edges of her stool.

The woman had ignored her, her focus purely on me. The Knight of Wands. A man will have a big impact on your life, and very soon if my read is correct. He is an energetic warrior, with a hasty personality- someone quick to hate or love. Unlike the Page of Wands, this card indicates that you will pursue them rather than just dream about them- but Iâm sure you will do a great deal of both.

Sheâd chuckled, apparently some inside joke Meredith and I werenât aware of. Iâd stayed silent, not believing any of it. It was just a cheap trick for money.

There will be much passion and lust, action and adventure, desire and loss, in your future. Look forward to it, Phil Lester.

It was only after the carnival that Iâd realized I hadnât told her my name.

âDo you think itâs him?â

I zoned back in from the spot on the wall Iâd been staring at. âWhat? Sorry?â

Meredith rolled her eyes as she punched me in the arm. âThe card stupid, the energetic warrior? Do you think Dan is him?â

We both turned to look at Howell, as he spilled the handful of knifes all over the floor, making a loud clatter and his cheeks to turn red. We watched as my mum swooped in to save the day, and as I thought about what Meredith had said.

Howell didnât really seem like the type I would go for. First of all, he was a dude and though I didnât have a particular problem with it, I hadnât ever been with a guy before. Also he didnât sound anything like how the Russian woman described. Energetic warrior? Uh, no.

Plus, there was the whole mysterious past and the weird I-can-actually-make-sounds-I -just-donât-talk-because-Iâm-probably-psychologically-fuck-up thing he had going too.

All in all, Howell was kind of a mess.

I massaged my temples and looked back at Howell signing apologies, and smiled.

âYou know Mer?â I said, folding my arms across my chest and looking at her side ways.

She mimicked my stance. âWhat Phillip?â

âI honestly donât know.â

She rolled her eyes and shoved me, as I barked out laughing.

âPlease no rough housing, we have guest,â mum said hovering by the doorway, in full helicopter parent mode.

ââK mum,â Meredith said, rolling her eye and heading into the dining room.

I followed behind her, nearly bumping into her when she spun around suddenly.

âYou know itâs him, donât you? Itâs got to be. Who else could it be, Phil?â she said, cocking an eyebrow.

I looked over her shoulder at Howell. And then back at Meredith.

âI really donât know.â I lied.

A/N:

heyyyy im back! I hope everyone had a great winter break and new years. yes i'm back with more phil and this time you get some of his history. hope you all liked it.

sorry if any of you felt that this was a bit of a filler chapter, it kind of was. But just wait there are big things to come. Also also yes, I am intentionally making phil say "to be honest" a lot. It's like his signature thing, like Holden Caulfield.

anyways heres the translations:

Dieu merci, c'est fini = God thank you , it's over

Stercore im tam stupidi. = I'm so stupid shit .

Bye! ! EddyXxxx