song: perfect world — kodaline

TWO WEEKS LATER, we’re halfway into September, and I don’t feel any better. In fact, I feel worse. Turns out keeping tiny, rare flowers alive is way harder than I thought it’d be. The little shits are sensitive as fuck, and they start withering as soon as I give them a drop too much of water or keep them in the sun a second too long. It’s like having a child, and I didn’t plan on becoming a father so soon.

I’m still trying to adjust the angle of the fucking pot from the kitchen windowsill where I moved it so it could get better light, when there’s a knock at the door. And because Eli’s an annoying fuck who only gets up at noon, I have to walk over and open up myself.

I’m fully expecting it to be Logan or Ace, coming over because they’re bored. Instead, I’m attacked by two tiny blurs. “JEM!” Gianna shrieks.

Somewhere between it all, I briefly recognize Kendall’s grinning face and signature colorful plaid jacket. She thrifted that jacket a year ago—apparently it’s Yves Saint Laurent or some shit like that—and since then she wears it with everything.

Kendall’s a freshman year in college. We both got our father’s height and light hair and our mother’s tanned skin—she’s got soft brown eyes, and I’ve got grey ones. She got into art school back home, and I’m proud. At least one of us could be good role model for Gianna and Poppy.

I manage to grab Poppy, but Gianna’s whizzing around the apartment faster than the speed of fucking light. The kid learned how to run and never stopped since. I send a questioning glance Kendall’s way. “You could’ve said you were coming.”

She grins. “Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise, Jemmy.”

Gianna’s five and a fucking menace. She has mom’s darker skin and silver eyes. She’s currently drowning in my Led Zeppelin shirt from when I was in third grade. Her wardrobe consists of only my old worn-out clothes, and she refuses to wear any of the “girly” stuff Jo buys for her. Poppy’s the baby, only three, with dad’s light hair and brown eyes. She was clearly dressed by Jo this morning because she’s wearing a bright pink sweater.

Just then, I notice Gianna investigating Eli’s half empty beer can on the coffee table. That asshole always leaves his shit lying around. I walk over to pull the beer can away from Gi with Poppy still perched on my arm. She’s light enough—and quiet enough—that I can walk around without even noticing she’s on me. If Poppy’s the angel, Gianna’s her little demon counterpart. As soon as she no longer has the beer can, she starts running around again.

“So what, dad sent you here as a peace offering?” I call over my shoulder, emptying the can in the sink before chucking it into the trash. I haven’t been answering my dad’s calls after he sprung his engagement on me over the fucking phone.

Kendall gives me a pointed look from the couch.  “No, Jem, the girls wanted to see you. And you should give him a little credit—he has three daughters and he’s trying his best. And Jo—I can’t say anything bad about the woman. She’s an angel. You know it too, deep down.”

Technically, she’s right. My dad’s girlfriend—fiancé now, I guess—fell from fucking heaven. She didn’t have to do shit for my sisters, but she still does—lunches, homework, play dates, the whole fucking shebang. Sensing tension, Poppy cuddles deeper into the crook of my arm, her small fingers clutching onto the fabric of my shirt.

I sigh, holding her tighter. “Right. Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m just . . . I don’t know how to deal with all of this shit, Ken. I’m at the garage full time and ma, I don’t know whether she’s getting better. . .”

Her mood dulls. “I came to see her.”

“Where are you staying?”

She shrugs. “I was going to check us in to a hotel.”

“I wanna stay here,” Gianna says, pouncing on me. “I wanna stay here, I wanna stay here, I wanna stay here—”

“Jesus Christ, Gi, calm down.” I spot a half-eaten box of Oreos—again, thanks to Eli—scattered on the coffee table, and I grab it, shoving it in my sister’s direction. “Here. Sit.”

Thank fucking Christ, she listens. I don’t want to have to explain to my father how she cracked her head open running around my apartment. I glance at Kendall. “Do you want to just stay? I can sleep out here, no problem.”

She looks wary, but her gaze lingers on Poppy in my arms and a now satisfied Gianna, who’s resting her head on my lap as she eats Oreos upside down. She’s spilling crumbs all over my shorts, and she could so easily choke on the thing, but at least she’s quiet, and mostly still. I lift my gaze to Kendall, who meets it evenly.

“Okay.” Kendall says, nodding. “Fine, yeah. We’re just here for two days anyway. I have school on Monday. Gi does too.”

At the mention of school, Gianna’s face turns sour and she discards her Oreos to crawl into my lap and cling to my neck. “I don’t want to go.”

I sigh, glancing at Kendall, who shrugs unsympathetically. “If you think this is bad, imagine a two-hour flight.”

Suddenly, Eli walks out shirtless, blinking stupidly. “J?”

When it finally dawns that it’s not just in his head, and my sisters really are here, Eli sobers, his eyes wide. “Oh. Hey Kendall.”

“Hi,” she says. I don’t miss the blush that spreads on my sister’s cheeks, and I’ve never wanted to punch my roommate more. Kendall stayed over once when she came to visit a year ago, and I don’t know what went down between the two, but she left a day early and when I asked Eli about it, he didn’t say a word.

“Eli,” I mutter, “Put a fucking shirt on.”

“Watch your language, J. Jesus.” He flicks the Oreo box in Gianna’s hands and holds out a hand. “What’s your name, little lady?”

“Gianna,” she says, smiling mischievously as she places an Oreo in his hand.

“And you?”

Poppy looks up at me as if asking it’s alright to talk to Eli. I grin, and she turns and mumbles, “Poppy.”

Eli nods. “G and P. Cool.” Then he looks at me. “What’s for breakfast?”

In a normal situation, I would’ve cussed his lazy ass out and told him to make his own fucking breakfast for a change. But since my sisters are all here, I figure I have to make them something anyway. I shrug, reaching over to ruffle Gianna’s hair. “Pancakes?”

*

AFTER BREAKFAST, we take the subway to the hospital. I’m in charge of making sure Gianna doesn’t get knocked by a car once we’re out on the street, and Kendall is more than happy to carry Poppy.

Since Gianna ate more than a fully-grown bear, she’s stuffed and quiet. And Poppy’s always quiet. Ace has been chewing my ear of the past week about auras and I told him to shut the fuck up, but I think he might be right, because Poppy’s a clone of Jo. They have the same aura­—­both quiet, calm, peaceful.

When we walk into the room, and ma spots Kendall, her eyes go wide. And when her gaze falls on Poppy in Kendall’s arms, and Gianna in mine, they cloud over with unshed tears. “Kenny?”

“Hey, mom.”

Gianna leaps out of my arms and into the bed, but Poppy stays reserved and quiet. Gianna knows who her real mom is, but to Poppy, Jo is more of a mom. After Poppy was born, ma’s postpartum depression drove her a to a relapse that broke everything.

She was alone at home with Poppy when she overdosed. Dad filed for divorce. I hated him for it. I was sixteen and angry, spending most of my time getting tattoos, smoking a fuckload of weed ­and hating Jo vehemently, in that order. All to piss off my dad.

I needed someone to be the villain, someone to blame for it all. I’m better now, though. Older. Less angry. But every now and then he does things that get on my nerves — like call me two months late to tell me he’s marrying someone.

“My babies,” mom says, , her voice thick with emotion. When she kisses Gianna’s face, my sister squeals with laughter. “I missed you so much.”

Without flowers, my mom’s room looks empty. I tried getting flowers from another shop, but she said they weren’t made with love or dedication, whatever that’s supposed to mean.

My mom looks at me with expectant eyes. “Indigo?”

She’s asked me the same question for the past two weeks, and my answer was the same as it is now. I shrug. “It just didn’t work out.”

Kendall looks amused. “Who’s Indigo?”

I shrug, ignoring the pain that claws its way up my chest. “No-one.”

I know Kendall well enough to know that she’s not going to let the topic go, but my mother must sense something, or maybe she’s just excited to see them, or maybe both, because she dives into a conversation that pulls Kendall’s attention away from me.

I lean back against the wall, watching as Gianna clings to mom, and ma beckons Poppy over as Kendall talks to her. “—I swear, mom, this girl spills paint on my prac! On purpose!”

Concern marks my mom’s features. “So what did you do?”

Kendall shrugs. “I spilled paint on hers, too.”

My mom laughs, which sets off Gianna’s laugh, and Poppy giggles, too. Kendall looks a bit confused that no-one’s taking her little debacle seriously, or that she didn’t get chastised by our mother, but she can’t help laughing as well.

And in that moment, nothing else matters. I’m happy.

*

BACK AT THE APARTMENT, we watch this weird Zootopia movie because apparently Gianna can’t go to sleep without it. When it’s done, I admit it’s not that bad, and Kendall collects the girls as everyone disappears to sleep. I take out a blanket and settle on the couch. Half an hour later, I’m drifting off to sleep when Eli appears, dragging in what sounds distinctly like a sleeping bag.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hm,” I mumble.

He rustles in the dark. “Came to give you company. Can’t have you sleeping out here all alone…”

I’m extremely close to telling him to shut the fuck up so I can sleep in peace, but my tiredness wins in the end as his voice fades out. There’s a moment of silence before there’s a flash of light from Eli’s direction. I’m forced to open my eyes, finding him scrolling on his phone with the screen brighter than the fucking cosmos.

“Why the fuck is your phone so bright?!” I bark.

“Sorry,” he murmurs sheepishly as he lowers it.

Now that I’m awake, I realize something. “And why the fuck are we sleeping out here when your bed is empty?!”

In the light from his phone screen shining on his face, I make out his grin. “Jesus, J, I know I’m hot, but you can’t just invite yourself into my bed like that.”

Groaning, I toss the blanket off me as I stand from the couch. “This shit’s uncomfortable as fuck. I hope you changed your sheets because I’m going to sleep in your bed now. Goodbye.”

“Wait— Jem!” Eli scrambles behind me. “You can’t sleep in my bed.”

I turn, glaring at him. “I fucking knew it. You didn’t wash your sheets. For fuck’s sake, Eli—”

“I washed my fucking sheets!”

I glance at him questioningly.

He sighs. “I gave my bed to Kendall.”

There’s a pause as his words sink in. “You what?”

“I gave—”

“I heard what you said the first time. Stay away from her man. She’s my baby sister.”

Eli rolls his eyes. “Chill the hell out. The girls are in your room and I figured it was cramped, so I offered up my bed and came out here. Besides, I like someone else.”

I shake my head as I return to my spot on the couch, almost tripping on Eli’s stupid fucking sleeping bag. The last time I checked, he was majorly hung up on his ex. “Who?”

Eli shrugs. “Someone.”

I clench my jaw as I lean back on my pillow. “Who?”

Eli lets out an exaggerated breath. “Mae.”

I frown. “What?” Is he talking about the same Mae I know? They only saw each other once for two minutes or something, and she beat his ass at Call of Duty. “You’re lying.”

The sleeping bag rustles as Eli gets back into it. “Jesus Christ, I’m not lying! We went to the same high school. I had a thing for her. And then I saw her after all this time and I don’t fucking know—it started again.”

He pulls up her Instagram to prove it. And I’m rolling my eyes because I don’t give a shit, just as long he’s not trying to get a quick score with my sister, when he clicks on Mae’s Instagram story, and I catch a flash of a face that makes my chest ache.

“Wait,” I roar, snatching his phone from him.

I click on the story again. And sure enough—it’s her. Indigo. She’s smiling into the camera, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Then, she blows the candles on the iced cake in front of her, and all those freckles dim as the light extinguishes.

It’s her birthday.

I give his phone back silently. Eli realizes, and he murmurs something supposedly comforting under his breath, but I don’t catch it. I’m already pulling out my own as I scroll through my contact list. I find her name there ­— she really did save it that time I asked her to. Without thinking, I click on her name and hit Call.

Eli furrows his brows as he peeks over at me from the floor. “What are you doing?”

“Shh.”

She answers after the first two rings.  “Hello?”

Her voice knocks the wind from my chest. She sounds exactly how she looks, how she is—beautiful. A little sad, like a trapped songbird. I didn’t realise how badly I wanted to hear her. But not like this—not over a call that distorts the exact shape of her voice.

“Babe?” A deep voice says on the other side. It sounds annoyingly like that asshole she’s dating. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know,” Indie murmurs.

Right. She saved her number to my phone, but I didn’t save mine to hers. I’ve never called her before. I let go of a breath, still not saying a word or giving her any hint that it’s me.

“Hello?” she says again. There’s a soft, silent pause before she breathes, “Jem?”

Not like this.

I cut the call.

*
*

a/n:

been busy but if youʼre reading this right now, thank you for your patience!

i havenʼt proof read this chapter,  just wanted to get it out to get over my block so if thereʼs any mistakes thatʼs *probably* why.

until the next one,

stay gold,
yuen

instagram: yuenwrites
twitter: yuenwrites