"Why isn't the bus here yet?" Sean complains, blowing on his hands. 

A solitary streetlight hangs over the bus stop and layers us in dark yellows and blue shadows. Sean fidgets to keep warm and I shiver as I try to conserve heat. Salt crunches under our feet, a ward against the frost.

My mouth quirks. "It'll be here soon."

We sneak glances down the street and after another minute, the bus' headlights come into view. The bus trundles to a stop and we climb aboard, mumbling hellos to the driver. Inside, the bus is empty and smells like sweat and must, but the windows are cracked open to let in fresh air. I take a window seat and Sean grabs the one beside me. The frosty air counters the bus' heaters that thrum at full-blast, futile in their efforts to warm the interior.

The bus lurches to a start and just as suddenly grinds to a halt. I glance out the window to see two figures running for the bus and once they've climbed on, I recognize Hugh and Beth.

"Oh hey!" Beth greets with a broad grin, sliding into a seat in front of us. "What are you guys doing here?"

"We're going bowling," Sean says with a smile. "There's a discount for students after six. Do you want to join us?"

"Ooh, sounds fun." Hugh nudges Beth with his elbow. "Babe, we should go. What do you think?" 

Beth's gaze darts between Sean and I. "Wasn't it just the two of you?" she asks.

"You can come along," I offer. It is meant to be reassuring, but she stares at me as if I've completely misunderstood her meaning. After a moment, she shrugs, a wicked grin crossing her face.

"Sounds fun," she agrees, "Let's do it."

The bus ride to downtown is about twenty minutes long, and we spend the time throwing topics of conversation back and forth. Or rather, Sean and Beth keep up a constant stream of chatter while Hugh adds his own commentary and I occasionally chime in. It's interesting to listen to the twists and turns of their discussion; what started off as complaints about assignments became a talk about the zombie apocalypse and survival techniques. 

We get off at the stop downtown and make our way to the bowling alley. A bright neon sign marks it off for us, its glowing arrow pointing to a door that descends to a basement area. It looks a bit shady, but Beth pulls open the door and heads down the stairs with no fear, so we follow after her. 

The bowling alley opens up once we hit the bottom of the staircase, a large underground area lit with glow-in-the-dark decals and patterned lights. Music pulses in the background, interrupted by the crash of bowling pins and laughter. The air smells faintly of air freshener, sticky soda, and sweat.  At the counter, we trade money for shoes and a lane in the far corner. Hugh and Sean make bets on who will win while Beth scoffs at both of them. I punch our names into the score machine and they flash on the screen above our lane, a silly animation of a bowling pin waving its arms and gesturing for Beth to start. 

Sean scoots onto the seat next to me as we watch Beth bowl. "Your teeth are glowing," he says with a grin. In the ultraviolet light, his teeth are bright white and faintly tinged with blue. 

I smile and roll my eyes. "Yours are too," I say. Though in here is warmer than outside, the vents keep a steady stream of cool air circulating, and I rub my always-frozen hands together for warmth. 

"Cold?" Sean asks.

"A little." 

Sean covers my hands with his, his palms warm against the backs of my hands. Heat rises to my cheeks, though I try to fight it down. 

"Better?" Sean murmurs, his lashes lowered.

"Mmm," I manage. 

Beth scores a decent amount of pins and Hugh steps up next, spouting bravado about how he's going to beat her score. Hugh's bowling ball goes into the gutter and Beth cackles loud enough to draw a few glances.

"It's been a long time since I last went bowling," Sean muses, his foot tapping in time with the music. I can't tell if his ears are red or if it's my eyes playing tricks on me in the dim light.

"Same." The last time I went bowling, I was young enough to require lane bumpers. I'm not certain I remember how to bowl. Sean's name flashes on the screen and I nudge him with my elbow. 

"It's your turn," I say. He releases my hands and they grow cold.

"Go, Sean!" Beth cheers as Sean rises and picks up a bowling ball. Hugh flashes her a look of feigned hurt.

"Cheering for Sean but not for me?" He asks incredulously as Sean bowls. 

Beth snickers. "You're an athlete, Hugh. I thought you'd be good at this," she says. 

"Bowling is very different from swimming!" Hugh protests.

Sean returns and his score flashes on the screen, just one pin off from Beth's. "You're up, Finn," he says. He must notice the uncertainty on my face because he claps a hand on my back. "You've got this," he encourages.

I step up and eye the lane with its immaculately arranged pins at the end. It can't be too hard, I think as I heft the bowling ball and let it roll down the alley. My shot knocks over three pins. I bowl my second ball. It heads straight down the lane and clears away all the remaining pins, earning me a spare.

Beth makes a noise of surprise behind me. Hugh lets out an amazed 'woah' while Sean grins from ear to ear. He holds up a hand and I high-five it.

"You sure you aren't secretly a bowling champion?" Sean teases.

"Beginner's luck," I say with a shrug, grinning. 

It turns out that Beth is very good at bowling, and is miles ahead of us in terms of points. I had thought Hugh would be the one leading, but he ends up in last place. Sean and I are about even for most of the time, until I manage to pull forward with a couple lucky strikes. I suppose it helps that I am quietly competitive, and even though I'm not skilled in bowling, I try my best even as the others are playing around. At one point, Hugh gave up on points and tried to bowl backwards between his legs. Perhaps it's ingrained in me to always aim for the top, even for something as trivial as a bowling game. Or maybe I was just lucky.

We decide to get dinner at a small diner a few blocks away. We order three large pizzas and split them among the four of us, one of them vegetarian at Beth and I's request. Sean gets a chocolate milkshake and immediately licks up half of the whipped cream on top. We finish dinner and then split up, Beth and Hugh meeting up with other friends while Sean and I head to the bus stop.

As we walk down the street, my gaze catches on a sign and drifts to the music store it points to. Inside, one wall is lined with shelves of sheet music, and another has several guitars on display. A line of keyboards and several speakers are clustered towards the back. In the middle of the store sits a sleek grand piano.

I pull open the door before I realize what I'm doing. The woman at the counter startles at the jingle of the bells on the door.

"Welcome," she says, and adjusts her glasses. Sean follows behind me, bells jangling, a perplexed expression on his face. The woman glances at both of us with a wary look in her eye. I can guess what she's thinking: two teenage boys out at night are bound to cause trouble.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" she asks.

There is no one in the store to judge me except her and Sean, but my throat constricts and I am suddenly self-conscious. I have half a mind to leave with blubbered apologies, but the piano sits there in all its glory and entices me.

"Do you mind if I play the piano?" I ask, nervous.

"Go ahead." She says it easily, but she watches us with the eyes of a hawk. 

I sit down at the piano and spread my hands across the black and white keys. It's been so long since I've played — I haven't seen a piano since I came to Everwood. My pulse trips with nerves, but I think of one of my favorite pieces and start to play.

Soft and lilting, the melody hovers in the tiny space of the music store, floating and dream-like. For a moment, my worries melt away as I focus only on weaving the notes together, contrasting the bass line with the quiet singing of the higher notes. My fingers fumble, upsetting the harmony, and I wince at my mistake. I focus on the keys, praying I don't mess up. The piece ends with a soft arpeggio, and the last notes linger in the air and fade into silence.

"I've heard that one," Sean murmurs, his voice coming from behind my left shoulder. I hadn't realized when he'd stepped forward to stand behind me. "It was on your playlist. What was it called?"

"Rêverie," I say. My heart drums against my ribs. "By Claude Debussy."

"It's pretty." Sean watches me, thoughtful. "Can you play another?"

"Yes." 

I have never liked having to exhibit my skills during recitals and performances, but playing in this setting, with few people to watch me, is somehow easier to bear. I cycle through my favorite pieces, then start pulling on old repertoire. I want Sean to love these pieces, so I play my best, warming up to the music as my fingers remember how to play. 

The woman at the music store counter steps up to us around the moment when I start to run out of pieces to play by memory. 

"I'm sorry, but it's closing time," she says with a hint of regret. Her gaze is no longer cautious and accusatory; there's a newfound appreciation within them.  She looks at me and smiles. "You play beautifully," she says.

"Thank you," I mumble, standing. "And thanks for letting me play your piano."

"Come back anytime," she replies.

Sean follows me out of the store and we head to the bus stop. The night air is chill, but a bus arrives quickly. It's empty inside, and we grab the same seats as we did on the way here. Sean lets out a yawn and our muted conversation dwindles as the exhaustion from the night's activities creeps up on us. I don't regret having Beth and Hugh join us — it was fun, and their company is enjoyable — but social interaction seeps at my energy all the same.

Something presses against my arm and I still, turning slightly to get a better look. Sean's head rests on my shoulder, the curl of his hair brushing against my cheek. His eyes are shut and his breathing even. This close, it's impossible not to notice how long his lashes are. 

The bus hits a bump in the road, jostling us, and Sean's hair falls across his face. I lift my hand to push it back, heart in my throat, the brown locks soft against my fingers. He stirs at the movement, but only just, shifting slightly to be more comfortable. His head fits perfectly into the crook of my neck, and out of the corner of my eye, I notice tiny flowers sprouting around his seat. 

The bus ride is only so long, and against my better judgement, I think I can have this, if only for a moment. I hold myself still, arm propped on the window sill, and watch as the scenery passes by in a blur. The street lights glow in intervals of yellow and navy blue, and the moon plays hide-and-seek among the silhouettes of the trees.

We reach campus and as the bus stops, I nudge Sean awake. He props himself up and blinks his eyes blearily. I offer a hand to pull him up and he takes it, holding on a little longer than necessary as he regains his balance. We head out the door and the bus trundles away, spewing smoke behind it.

"That was fun," Sean says, smiling as we walk towards the dorms. "I enjoyed bowling. And listening to you play piano."

The corner of my lip lifts. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah," he says. "You're really good."

"Thanks." 

"Finn?" Sean stops in his tracks and I turn around to face him. A lamp stands between us, its dull light casting thicker shadows around us. Sean's hands are in his pockets and he looks nervous as he shuffles his feet.

"There's something I want to talk with you about." Sean swallows. "I —"

A ringtone drowns him out. Annoyed, I fish my phone out of my pocket and stare at the name on the screen. It's my mother. I thumb the red button to deny her call, but a second later, another one comes in.

"I'm sorry," I mutter, resisting the urge to smash my phone to pieces.

"That's okay. It's — I'll tell you another time." Sean rubs the back of his neck. "I'll, uh, see you tomorrow?"

I give a small smile. "Yeah, I'll see you." 

Sean turns, waving a goodbye, and I wave back. My nerves are an electric, jumbled mess in my stomach as I stare at my phone screen. I give myself a second to calm down, then accept the call.

"Hi, mum," I greet, "How are —"

"You traitorous, lousy, ungrateful child!" She screams, and I flinch. Something within me cracks, sharp and brittle as a layer of ice on a lake. "After all I've done for you, you sneak behind my back and crawl to that asshole father of yours —" 

I feel like I am back in the dream, a tsunami crushing my ribs, water forcing its way to my lungs.  "Mum, I —"

She doesn't hear me. I listen to her rant until I'm numb to the bone and my ear rings with her shrill yells. When she hangs up, I sit there for a long time, replaying her words in my head like a broken record. It is many more minutes before I drag myself back to the dorms and crawl into bed. 

I do not sleep.

~*~

Big oof. Sorry, Finn.

This chapter was a bit longer than normal, but I hope you enjoyed it! The video linked is the piece that Finn plays, Claude Debussy's Reverie, which greatly inspired this story. You could call it the theme song LOL. I highly recommend it, especially if you want something calm and soothing to listen to.

Stay tuned for the next chapter!