Chapter 4

I am very cold and very wet by the time I get home. The rain hadn't let up one bit, so I am now thoroughly soaked through. I sigh as I get to the interior of our apartment building. The move here was anything but calm, and I've hated the building since the moment I first stepped foot inside.

To say it was run down would be an understatement. All the exterior walls are tagged so much there's no hint of the original wall to be found. So far, any residents I've seen in passing are sketchy as all getup, and I am not planning on making friends with any of our neighbors. I get to our door and struggle to get my keys out. I wouldn't be caught dead leaving the door unlocked under any circumstance. As I finally get in, I am greeted by the absolute mess that is our small "home."

My feet kick through the empty beer cans scattered across the floor. My room is just inside the entryway, and I'm thankful I at least have this small space to my own. The entire apartment consists of two tiny rooms--one for me and one for my father--, one bathroom, a barely functional kitchenette, and the entry area; which is just big enough for a loveseat, mini coffee table and television. It's close quarters and it's barely livable, but it's what I've got. I should be thankful for the fact that we've at least got this much. I'm reminded of that quite often.

I strip down and change, taking some clothes out of my limited closet, and hanging my wet clothes up to dry. I hear a groan coming from the only other room in the house, and my shoulders sag. I guess he didn't go to work again. Shaking my head, I walk back to the common area and start cleaning up. The past few weeks I've had the wonderful schedule of waking up, secluding myself in my room for the majority of the day, then making a quick appearance to clean up the inevitable mess left by him wherever he decided to destroy. Guess that's the life of someone living with a useless as shit alcoholic.

I grab a bag and stuff all the cans into it, I can get a few bucks at one of those recycler places with these. Then go on to clean up all the dried spills and crumbs littering around the place. By the time I'm done I hear the shower starting, and decide to get out of the depressing place before I have to deal with him. I slip my bag over my shoulder, and throw an extra jacket in it before locking the door and jetting out.

Library here I come.

Yeah I'm no longer a nerd like I used to be, but that doesn't negate my need to always be somewhere in the vicinity of books. An introvert's best friend is found in the pages of a good book, and for a kid who has had to move around a lot in the past few years, that means I constantly need to know where the closest libraries are. Within the first week of moving here I'd found the library and signed up for a card of my own. The lead librarian is strict, but nice enough. I don't really care as long as she gets me what I need. I walk for a while before coming to the building. The rain is still coming down hard, so I am yet again, thoroughly soaked through. The mat at the entrance doesn't do much to get the water off my shoes, since my shoes aren't the only wet part of me by far. But no one seems to notice as I push through the doors, and head to a secluded corner.

The reading nooks here are quite nice, inlaid in the walls with arching windows and plush cushions. Instead of pulling out my fantasy novel, though, I figure I should get started on the homework I'm sure to have. Okay maybe I haven't left my nerd status too far behind. The thing is, if I get the work done beforehand, then that means minimal effort when things are due, and I don't have to pay attention in class if I do a bunch of reading on my own time. It's a win win for me, so I heave out all my notebooks and begin.

My mind wanders after a while, eyes gazing out the window to the overcast sky. I tug at my shirtsleeves, a bad habit I've developed when I'm uncomfortable. My fingernails scratch the inside of my wrists during the action and I stop. The pouring rain provides a constant noise source to drown out my own thoughts. No matter how many times I tell myself, I just can't help it. I can't stop thinking back, and wondering what I could have done differently. I'm here now. I need to suck it up and get the fuck over it.

The pages in front of me are filled with my neat cursive writing, all the "get-to-know-you's" filled out to completion. I still think it's total bullshit, but it doesn't mean I can't just not do the assignments. Too distracted to escape into a book, and too restless to continue sitting here, I pack up my bag and head out. Heading home doesn't sound too great at this point in time, so I wander around the empty streets for a while. Seems like I'm the only lunatic who would be caught in this downpour. The slapping of my feet against the wet pavement accompanies the pounding in my head. My thoughts mirror my skin as I let my world go numb. The world is practically a blur, but I'm used to this by now. Extreme measures are the only way to stop myself from reliving my constant nightmares. So I may get sick from walking around in the rain, but at least I don't have to deal with any other bullshit that pollutes my brain.

Raising my head for the first time in a few blocks, I'm able to make out that I'm in the neighborhood around the school. Great, I'm already back to that pit of shit. The grey overcast that had been hanging around all day is slowly fading to black, as night begins to claw its way into the world. I lean up against a convenient mailbox and let out a breath, I see the puff of air dissipate as the heat from my body is lost. My eyes shut for a moment, so I'm caught off guard when I hear my name called out.

"Nico?" It's hesitant, and confused. I look up to the owner of the voice, and get lost for a second in the startled blue eyes. Jason Grace. His puffy raincoat and umbrella shelter him from the heavy rain, and I let out a breathy chuckle. I must look absolutely, positively insane right now. Shit.

"You okay, man?" He takes a step forward, expression showing just how confused he is to see me out here.

"Yeah, I'm good." I dismiss him with a wave, and look back to the clouds. My view is obstructed as an umbrella is placed over me. I turn back to Jason.

"Why are you out here, without a coat no less?"

"Just on a walk. You ever seen someone take a walk, Grace?" I'm in no mood for false pretenses right now. I know nothing about this guy other than the fact that he's annoying and nosy, just like all of his friends.

"Not in this weather." He gives me a look, like I owe him an explanation. Jokes on him though, cause I owe him nothing.

"Not everyone likes the sun," I shrug. He raises an eyebrow, taking in my practically frozen state, but doesn't say anything. Instead he calmly takes out a set of keys and opens a mailbox, grabbing the contents inside. After closing said box, he nods to the houses on our right.

"Let's finish this conversation inside." He turns to start walking before realizing I haven't moved an inch.

"Come on," He gently puts a hand on my shoulder, flinching at how cold I am, "My mom makes a killer hot chocolate." I stay silent, but a part of me gives up, and lets him tug me along. Maybe it's the promise of homemade hot chocolate, maybe it's my repressed desire for a friend, or maybe it's something else entirely, but I find myself standing in the threshold of the Grace household. I am afraid to take a step inside, given my dripping wet state of being and the clear elegance of the place. There's even a chandelier in the large entryway. A fucking chandelier. I can tell I don't belong here, not by a long shot.

There's a patter of soft footsteps, and a short, beautiful woman comes into the room.

"Oh hello there! Jason, darling, you didn't mention you were having a guest over," She pauses and a look of surprise flashes over her features.

"Good gods you look frozen to the bone! Jason, get this boy a change of clothes!" She grabs my hand and pulls me into another room, and lights a fire, "I don't even know what to do with that boy most of the time. Here, make yourself comfortable." She sets a towel down on a chair that she had pulled along with her on our trek to this room. I am still in shock by how nice this house is. Big open space rooms, and perfectly placed furniture and nick-nacks that make the place seem out of a magazine, but still lived in.
"Oh, I didn't even introduce myself, I'm Beryl Grace. Here's Jason with some clothes, the bathroom is right around the corner if you'd like some privacy."
"Mom, you can stop crowding Nico, I can help him warm up." He says, a slight blush on his face. I guess he finds his mother's hovering embarrassing. I could never imagine thinking that about someone who obviously cares so much about him.

"Not without my hot chocolate you can't." She gives him a pointed look, and he throws his arms up in surrender. Then, he hands me the change of clothes, and points again, "Just over there." I nod, and get up.

Once inside the bathroom, I shake my head. I need to get a hold of myself. Stripping out of my jeans is a struggle to say the least, but I somehow manage. Jason's clothes are way too big for me, and I'm happy to see he grabbed sweatpants with a drawstring. After tightening them up as much as I can, and rolling up the cuffs, I still find myself swimming in the clothes. I look in the mirror, and take in the sight of myself. After a moment, I see the beginnings of tears pooling in my eyes. Goddamnit. I did not need this right now. Fuck their nice home, and caring hospitality, and stupid fireplace. I hiccup trying to stop the crying that had been building inside me since stepping into this place, and furiously rub at my eyes.

Fucking pathetic. I take in a steadying breath, only to lose it again when I hear Mrs. Grace call to me, "Nico, honey, are you alright in there?"

No I'm not fucking alright. "Yes. I'll be out in a moment." Pull yourself together man. I look back in the mirror, and let out a sigh. I already look like shit, there's nothing I can do about it. I unlock the door and walk back out to the living room, "Here you go, now you two boys warm up by the fire. Nico here is still shaking, Jason, get him a blanket." She hands me a steaming mug, and ushers me to the couch this time, the chair and towel from before are gone. Jason grabs a few blankets out of a closet and meets me on the couch.

"Sorry about my mom, she's a little overbearing sometimes." The blush comes back to his face, but I take back my frustration from before. His expression says it all: he loves her. I can see why too. She almost reminds me of--

No. I can't think about that right now. I already had a goddamn meltdown in the bathroom, I don't need Jason seeing one. I take a sip from my mug, and I must let out some sort of sound of approval, because Jason chuckles a bit.

"I told you it's killer," He says with a knowing smile, before taking a sip from his own mug. It's quiet for a bit, both of us taking occasional drinks.

"So are you feeling better at all?" I chance a look at him. Instead of brushing off the question like I normally would, I decide to actually think on it. For some reason, he seems genuine. His features are calm, and almost feel trustworthy. Stupid hot chocolate must be spiked or something, cause I want to believe him, "Actually, yeah." I answer him honestly. He nods.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He is being cautious, and I appreciate it.

"No." He takes in a short breath. "Okay," I can tell he is trying not to pry.

"Thank you, Jason." I actually look at him, and he smiles back at me. "Of course." He nods to the fire, "You wanna stay down here, or go upstairs. It's getting kinda late, and we do have school tomorrow." I nod, not knowing what I want to do. I feel like we are in a bubble right now, and if I get up it will pop. My body chooses for me but interrupting my thoughts with a yawn. My face flushes a bit, and Jason smirks.

"Bed it is, then." He sets down his empty cup, gets up, and extends a hand to me.

I surprise myself by taking the offer.