They came back to a youth center in chaos. Easily thirty kids scattered across the space with plates in hand and food from a small buffet on the counter. Those kids busied themselves with card games, darts, table kicker, and a small performance by a girl with a guitar.
She wasn’t singing, but he hoped she would do it later. Micah had heard her sing a little earlier and she was good.
He spotted the others at the shuffleboard table of all places and it was not the game he would have imagined they’d pick.
He took a step into the room just as someone walked by him with a slice of cake. They had already brought out the cake? He checked the counter, but only saw a platter full of crumbs.
“Hey!” he called to the others. “Did you save us any?” He had really been looking forward to that.
They looked at him and were about to say something when their eyes slid to his side. Micah glanced back, noticed Darren in the doorway behind him, and remembered: “Oh! And hey, Darren’s here!”
He tried to make it sound like the good thing it could be, if they let it. Hopefully, Lang would be the only one who didn’t like him for whatever reason.
“Darren!” Billy and Finn cheered. They were the only two who did. The others just stared.
They would have to work on that.
“Cake’s behind the counter!” David called and Micah spun to his right, surprised to still see him here.
He was helping another father fit a folded packet of paper underneath one of the kicker’s legs. Oh, because of the wobble? They had just accepted that as part of the game. One of the players was also missing a leg and there was a small hill leading up to one of the corners. Whoever made the most of the circumstances to cheat was clearly the better player, after all.
But nevermind that. Micah pumped a fist and tapped Darren as he spun to the left and the counter. “C’mon, let’s get some—”
“Food first!” the man added. “Dessert after.”
He rolled eyes but dutifully grabbed a plate and stacked some non-salad salads, bread slices, and shish kabobs on top. Darren did the same and nibbled his thumb clean as he glanced around the room.
Did he know anyone here, himself?
David came over to check on them. “I saved some for you, but uh … you’re going to have to share, seems like. You look familiar.”
“Huh?” Darren looked at David in surprise, like his thoughts weren’t all there. Was he nervous?
“Former classmate,” Micah said and introduced him.
“Ah. David, here. Ryan’s dad.” He shook his hand. “Have fun tonight and don’t get up to too much trouble, you hear me?”
“Yessir.”
Micah slipped back around and headed for the others to ask them what they were doing. He had his mouth half-full. After the first bite, he realized how famished he was. He had barely eaten anything all day and scraped a potato slice past his lips to chew.
“Mm, this is good.”
“Thank you!” someone said in passing.
“Uh—”
“We’re trying to get a high score,” Finn explained and clacked a puck onto the wood. “Because some other guy claimed he got all twenties like it was some big deal and we were like—”
“That’s easy?” Micah guessed.
“Yeah.”
“And is it?”
“Nope!” He leaned forward and struck. The puck hit the wall instead of the doorway and bounced back. “Argh! Damnit. I give. Anyone else want to have a try?”
Ryan took the striker and Micah opened his mouth to ask, How about you give Darren a try? But the guy wordlessly held it out to him before he could. His demeanor seemed just as unfriendly as he always was to strangers, but the expression was off. He didn’t recognize it. Since he was offering … tentative friendliness?
Darren jerked to keep his bite from falling on his shirt and quickly swallowed. “You want me to try?”
He shrugged.
“Yeah, go for it,” Finn said with a smile. “See if you can manage any better than us. ‘Cause if not, I bet this game is rigged.”
“Or that guy was lying,” Jana said with a squint at the board like she had tried and failed herself.
“Yeah, or that.”
“Alright. I, uh, can’t make any promises, though.” Darren accepted the striker and put his plate aside. The people standing or sitting around the table skid the pucks back to him to stack.
Micah bumped Ryan to get him to scoot over on the table. When he glanced at him, he offered the guy one of the shish kabobs, which he actually accepted. He hadn’t expected him to.
Wood clacked as Darren struck, then clacked again when the puck hit the wall. The people around him cheered.
He gave Lang a smug look, but the other guy just frowned and crossed his arms instead of returning an answer.
Huh. Whatever, he wouldn’t want to gloat … too much anyway. He was about to take another bite when he remembered, “Oh, and Kyle left! I’m supposed to say bye for him.”
They looked at him, some without recognition. Ryan narrowed his eyes a little and asked, “So?”
“Screw you.” He shoved him. “Don’t be mean.”
Finally, he smiled.
----------------------------------------
The few remaining parents left one by one and Ryan was a little embarrassed to see his father was one of them. Not as embarrassed as the other kids would be, because his dad was cool unlike theirs’, but he checked to see if they had everything they needed before he left.
Yes, dad, Ryan thought. Now, go?
Their lookouts kept watch from the windows to make sure they were gone for good, and a cheer went through the room once they got confirmation. People immediately lowered their guards.
Finally, they had the building to themselves.
Finn ran off. His footsteps thumped up the stairs to the room where their bedrolls and backpacks were stashed. Micah happily ate his cake behind them and Sol walked up to where they stood at the kicker, spinning the ball they had given him in one hand.
“Anyone up for a real match?” she asked.
“In a second,” Lang said and tried to steal the other ball from him. Ryan clenched his jaw as he tried to get it with the tip of his player’s foot, but it slipped away. The guy managed to shuffle it past him.
Damnit.
“Do we even have enough players?” He glanced up for a second and Lang used that chance to slam the ball toward his goal.
It hit the wood with a dribble at the back wall, fell into the slot, and his two opponents cheered as he slapped a point down on his counter.
“Sorry,” Darren said. His goalie.
“It’s, uh— It’s fine,” Ryan mumbled and looked to where Sol addressed the room with her arm up.
“Who’s up for a match?! We need players.”
“It’s cold out,” someone said.
“So? Don’t be a wimp.”
“We’re in,” Billy called next to a guy and girl his age.
Ryan raised a hand in salute.
While they slowly scrounged up enough members, Finn came rushing back down the stairs with another six pack in hand. He plopped the first bottle open as he walked up and held it out.
“Round two.”
Ryan took what was handed to him and it wasn’t cold like the last had been, but he still felt a small amount of fear at being caught with it despite being allowed to drink, now. He glanced back the window to make sure they really were alone, even if it didn’t matter.
Finn handed the next bottle to Lang, then Jana, Cory, and even offered Darren one rather than Tim.
Apparently, having chosen a vow of silence, none of them really liked the guy silently hanging around them.
Ryan waited for them to plop theirs open and held his out for a wordless offer of a toast. Darren needed a moment to catch on. Finn called, “To no parents, but friends, and friends of friends,” as they knocked them together.
“Cheers!” they said.
It was a different brand and it tasted thicker than the one his dad had bought them, as if that had been water and this broth. It was dark and dry, with a fullness that snuck up on him after a second.
Ryan wasn’t sure if he liked it better or not. Its lazy smell and temperature weren’t doing it any favors, but it wasn’t bad. Not really. He checked the label for when he had to buy any, memorizing options.
Still, he asked, “Where did you get this?”
Finn gave him a funny look. “Ryan. We’re sixteen. You’re sixteen. We can buy beer if we want, now.”
“Ohh …”
“You done?” Sol asked them. She seemed annoyed, unlike Micah. She would have to wait a year before she could join them. If she ever joined them. “Can we get a move on now?”
“Mm,” Lang said and lowered his own bottle. “Hold on, we’re not done with our game yet.”
“Why not? You have more points than those two losers. You win. Congrats, now let’s go outside.”
“Nope. Not satisfying. We have to win for sure, first.”
Ryan put his beer away on the window sill and turned back with a grin. “Sure you don’t want to give up while you’re ahead?”
He nodded. “See? That’s the kind of attitude I’m worried about. We’re so going to crush you.”
“Yeah, crush,” Cory echoed.
They did.
Mostly because they cheated with that stupid hill of theirs and one of their players was missing a leg, Ryan convinced himself, but it was still fun. Sol wasn’t the type to rejoice. Her annoyance had built up over the match instead, but she did smile once they finished and headed outside.
The others still had their [Hot Skin] and Ryan took off his jacket to keep it safe as he joined them.
Then, he got to do something he hadn’t done in ages: play alleyball. Have fun, not on his own standing on a minecart racing down a tunnel, but with his friends and friends of friends.
And Darren, for some weird reason. But he guessed he was a friend of a friend, now. It took ages until they got the teams and rules set, deciding if they were allowed to use Skills or not, but once they had started, it didn’t matter.
Dammit, had he missed them.
“Does everyone have a glass yet?” Micah asked around the room, a bottle of bubbly apple juice in hand. They were using champagne glasses to copy the adults. It was almost not childish.
Someone had left the door open and a cold breeze tore through the room—not that many minded. Ryan knew roughly where it was if he just watched Micah duck and weave his way around the room.
He envied him that he could see it, but he was pretty sure he could learn to do the same someday. His [Enhanced Senses] Skill had drawn influences from animals. Some of the books he’d read suggested some birds could sense wind currents through to aid in their flight.
He had always been a little more perceptive to winds, if only because they carried scents and chills. Maybe that could be something he could train for, next? Path-wise, he figured.
It wasn’t like meditating on his memories of their exam had done much for his other Path yet.
On the other hand, birds could also detect magnetic fields and the only thing Ryan knew about magnets was that they stuck to things, so there was that.
Finn shut another cupboard. “Dammit, is there no beer stashed around here anywhere?”
He rummaged through the kitchen. For someone with his organization, he had been pretty unprepared with only six bottles of beer. Had he been expecting others to pitch in with more?
Well, nope. People were selfish, apparently. And it wasn’t like Ryan had thought to buy any … yet.
“I’ll bring more next time,” he told him. “But you gotta show me all the good brands so I know which ones to buy. I want to try them all.”
He stood up and leaned against the counter with outstretched arms and a grin. “Oho. So we have a future expert on our hands? But yeah, no, there’s nothing here. We’ll have to find us some someplace else, later.”
They had to drown their sorrows in something, after all. “Stupid [Athletes] with their stupid alleyball skills,” he grumbled.
Ryan was rusty, Finn had never been the best player, and Lang had the better stats, Path, and sheer skill to beat them. Every. Single. Damn. Time. They’d almost been equals, once.
Once.
“Should’ve gone to play as goalie.” Finn said and grabbed a cloth to wipe down the counter.
“Screw that,” Ryan said. “Just because I have [Strike Down]? Doesn’t work against stuff on the ground.”
“What are you on? If you can ward off a horde of ink spiders trying to force their way down your gullet with nothing but a spear, you can manage to keep a ball out of a goal right behind you.”
“Maybe. I’d still rather not. Better to be somewhere I can influence the outcome of the match than stuck in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t. Mr. Level Fourteen. Wouldn’t you rather take one for the team and win?”
“I’d honestly rather set stuff on fire already,” he admitted. “Is it New Year yet?” He glanced at the clock. Twelve minutes to, it said.
Twelve minutes until his birthday was over. Twelve minutes until the year was over. Ryan didn’t know how to feel about that. Happy? Definitely. A song, presents, parade, food, drink, games, family and friends—what more could he want?
Yet, why did he feel like time was running away from him? Was there something he was supposed to do that he had forgotten?
“Ryan, do you have a glass yet?” Micah asked from across the room while he prepared another glass for … Darren.
Why and when had he invited him, again? They had talked in classroom a few times, yeah, much to his dismay, but—
“Ryan?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m on it.” He filled himself a glass with a sigh. One glance back and he asked Finn, “Do you have one yet?”
“Hum.”
He grinned. “That’s a no. Here.”
Finn looked at the glass of bubbly juice like an insult, but accepted it anyway.
Ryan checked to see where Lang was and if he had one yet, but he was in the corner with Jana.
With-with.
They both smiled and leaned close to each other as they spoke. He seemed to be doing a good job of it, too. Little to no apprehension, no doubts, no dancing around with words from what bits Ryan could overhear. Just a normal conversation and they were both undoubtedly into one another.
Lucky bastard.
Micah burst into their bubble with the tact of a Whip Spider and forced two glasses of fake champagne on them before moving on to the next person.
Ryan chuckled to himself across the room.
He wasn’t the only one handing out champagne glasses, though, and one of Billy’s friends asked, “Uh, why does that clock say it’s eleven minutes to midnight? Mine says it’s eight.”
The guy frowned. “Did you wind it right?”
“Yes, I wound it right—”
“Mine says it’s thirteen?” another girl offered.
Micah froze mid-pour and looked around the room. “Does anyone have any clock Skills?”
“What? No,” she said. “Who here would be high enough level to have a clock Skill yet?”
We would, Ryan thought. If they’d had the right Classes for it.
“Finn?” Micah asked.
He shook his head. “Nope. But my Guidance Skills are giving me a headache right now. They’re not happy with you people.”
Some of the conversations died down as people started noticing. Not all of them, but enough.
“Then …” Micah asked the room, “what do we do?”
“Easy, New Year’s in seven minutes,” the girl said. If she had wound it herself, it was no surprise she was so confident, but other people argued her claime and said theirs were more accurate.
They didn’t even know when midnight would be? Ryan smiled. Hey, maybe his birthday would go on forever?
“We could go to one of the plazas,” Darren suggested. “Lots of people go there and those are accurate.”
“And how close are those?” the friend asked. “Because now my watch says it’s six minutes.”
There was a pause.
After a second, Billy called, “Out, out! Everyone out! Code red! Shitty clocks! Get your jackets, get your gear—” He had to run halfway up the stairs to call out to the people up there.
Not everyone reacted. Some rushed to put their shoes on, most still had their glasses in hand they had forced on themselves, and others hadn’t been listening at all. Most who had both casually set their glasses aside to put on their jackets as if they had no sense of urgency at all.
Ryan should know. He was one of them. Why hurry? They would know when it was midnight by the noise anyway.
But Micah got caught up in the excitement and rushed them all out of the building in a fuss. He asked Darren to point them in the direction of the nearest plaza, as if he were the expert, and led the way.
Others ran off ahead of him, some complaining, some laughing. Some had forgotten their coats but not their glasses. Some sloshed their drinks already and others abandoned them entirely.
Finn, surprisingly, wasn’t one of them as he speed-walked next to Ryan. Micah spun around ahead, just like many other kids to check on who was behind them, and called out, “Hurry!”
They rolled their eyes and jogged for a stretch, but simply let themselves fall back into a walk.
Cory dragged Tim past them and Ryan glanced back himself. Lang carried two glasses while Jana put her jacket on. Even more kids rushed out of the building in the distance, hopping around on one foot as they forced their shoes on.
It was like their own private parade.
And the moment it stepped into the plaza, the bells tolled and the crowd of young adults there shouted, “HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
The sounds of the bells were drowned out by the cheers and chorus of belated echoes from them teens who arrived, and spun around to run back and call it to themselves, “Happy New Year!”
The first fireworks burst overhead, all throughout the city, and reflected on their glasses as Finn and he toasted. Might as well. Micah got there at the last second with a few others in tow to do the same before they drank. Darren, too. But it was just apple juice, in the end.
Most didn’t even drink theirs. Someone called out, “Fireworks!” in a pause between crackles and in the distance, more and more exploded all over the city and lit up the night sky in different colors.
And then their parade was running straight back the way it had come to join in on the chaos.
Fireworks.
Most of them, at least. Ryan stood still and looked up with a stare. These were just the simple fireworks. The dandelion blooms. In a bit, an hour or so for people to celebrate, there would be entire shows with moving lights.
He guessed his birthday was over. Along with the year. Usually, he would have been relieved at this point. Excited for what came next. Most of the others had already run off in that excitement.
Why did he feel regret?
“Ryan!” Lang called out. He had waited up a little ways down the street, Finn a few steps further along, and Micah last. They all stared back at him. “What are you doing? Hurry up!”
He put on a smile and shook the thought away, but it came back right away like a buzzing fly so he just opted to ignore it instead. He had better things to do, he convinced himself.
It was time to blow some stuff up.
Micah set a crate full of fireworks down near the wall outside the youth center. Two others joined it a moment later. Sol and Finn.
Echoed bursts filled the air around them and the first group had already set up rockets further down the street, using a small empty flower bed. There was a glimpse of a flicker, the fuse suddenly lit, and they ran. After a few seconds, the first rocket shot off with a scream.
He looked up as their own explosion. Small and blue. The sparks turned gold, then silver as they fell, and Ryan was met with the strangest case of deja vu. It was dark around him, his hair, and the colors—
But his clothes were all wrong. For a second, he had thought that his Class could tell the future.
They were already setting up the next ones.
Sol and Lang dug through the crates like wild animals through the trash, a rare moment where they looked like actual siblings. Finn picked up some of the things that fell out, cuffed them, and dropped them back inside.
She grabbed a whole bunch, turned to a friend waiting behind her and shoved them in her arms.
“Run.”
“Hey, Sol, wait—” Lang said, but the friend had already hurried off, giggling like a maniac.
“My share,” she said.
“What did you take?”
There went a part of their supply. They had far too much anyway, but Ryan still snatched the top off the pile as she ran past him.
“Hey!” she called.
“Hey yourself.”
She stuck her tongue out at him—how old was she?—and left. What had he even gotten? Ooh, a chain cracker and some frogs. He dropped them back on the pile and Sol waved at him before she was gone, too.
Finn passed out firecrackers to the people around them. Jana and her friends ducked inside. They had apparently brought their own.
Darren was standing a little ways off from the group and looked lost. Ryan frowned. Had Micah invited him but wasn’t even looking out for him? Or did he think he could manage on his own?
Did he have any firecrackers?
Ryan hesitated, then called out, “Hey, Darren. Aren’t you going to join us? Or don’t you want any?”
His attention to snapped to him with a deep frown. Almost a scowl. “I didn’t know if I could.”
Why did he sound so defensive?
He tried a smile. “Go for it. What’s ours is yours and all that. I know Micah would say that, anyway. Right?”
The guy glanced up from where he sat crouched next to one of the boxes, a firecracker clutched in one hand. His eyes were a little too wide.
“Toss Darren some firecrackers, will you?” Ryan said.
“Oh, yeah.”
He reached a chain back. Ryan crouched down next to him and mumbled, “You don’t have to do this, you know?”
“No.” He shook his head. “No, I really do. I’ve been looking forward to it all week, especially the shows later.”
He hesitated, but gave in. “Alright. You got your ring?”
“Right here.”
A fountain of sparks lit up in the background as he showed it. Lime green and yellow. Some of the teens started dancing dangerously close to the flames around it in circles like some kind of tribe members. They even started a guttural four-syllable chant.
Ryan couldn’t help but smile.
Finn patted his pockets above them, a box firecracker in hand, and asked, “Hey, does anyone have a light?”
He frowned. “What happened to yours? The one you bought?”
“It broke. Stupid piece of crap.”
“Ah. Here. [Create Fire].” Ryan stood and held a wisp of flames out to him. He promptly got shoved away.
“Not over the crate!” Micah told him. For a second, he was worried the reason was a lie, but his smile held true.
He closed his hand as he stumbled away and chuckled.
Finn looked at him with a glimmer in his eyes. “Riiight,” he drew the word out. “You can do that.”
“It’s not the only thing I can do,” Ryan said and remembered the rest of that deja vu; something he had been looking forward to all week, himself. “Here, watch.”
He took a few steps back away from the others, made sure it was clear all around him, and spread his arms out overhead. “[Swathe of Flames].” The mana tore out of him. A blanket of flames rose in the street between houses as if it had been torn off a wash line and illuminated them for a second.
A wave of sweat pressed down his body from the heat alone.
“Awesome,” some people said.
Ryan chuckled. He loved doing that, even if he couldn’t use the spell that often due to its cost.
When he looked back down, Finn was grinning at him. “I’m totally going to use you like a lighter tonight.”
Jana whistled as she walked out the doorway and looked between them. “Get a room. Please.”
Ryan blinked. “Huh?”
“No,” Lang said.
“What?” she asked with a smile.
He just shook his head and walked her out. “No. Don’t.”
Then Ryan parsed it. He summoned the normal flame, larger this time, to get them to shut up and held it out. The others approached him to light their fuses. They threw them down the street at the dancing tribe.
Some shouted and dodged out of the way. Others just kept it up. The boom of firecrackers drowned out the voices.
More and more followed. Soon enough, the entire street smelled of black powder and smoke.
“Thanks,” Darren said as he lit his own fuse. His heart didn’t seem in it as he tossed it down the street.
“Anytime.”
He gave him a look, but Micah drew their attention by waving a long back box around.
“Hey, did you help make this?” he asked as he pointed. Single squares were marked off. An artillery row?
“Uh, I don’t know if I helped make that one—” Darren started.
“But you helped make others?” He beat him to the punch, smiling from ear to ear.
“Want me to light it?” Ryan offered.
Micah took a step back. “Oh, no. Don’t come any closer. This is al-chem-ic-al and you’re too fire-y for this.”
Darren turned on him. “You have a fire aura?”
“No, he’s just stupid.”
“Ah.”
He seemed to accept that right away. The two headed down the street while he watched and Micah pulled a lighter out of nowhere. He recognized it as the one from inside the kitchen drawer.
Darren got the honors of lighting the fuse. Then they ran. “Fire in the hole!” Micah shouted and others looked over in response.
The box thumped as a single shot raced into the sky with a trail of smoke. Against all laws of motion, the shot began to spiral halfway up until it came back to its center, like the outline of a cocoon.
The second shot fired at the same time as the first burst. A dozen bright paper chain people burst from the center and sprinted off in different directions across the sky. Their legs burned down like matches and the used their hands to lope themselves further and further until they were only flickers.
Some of the runners were joined by the figures of the second shot, who held hands with them—nearly. They overlapped some, where the distances were off, but it was hard to see up there.
Sparks burst out from seemingly nothing at the place a few seconds after the first had died. The box thumped again and again as the chain went down its row and more fire sprites joined the race.
“Wow.” Ryan stared. “That is awesome.” How could you even make something like that?
Easy. [Alchemists] could. He couldn’t.
And for the first time that night, Darren smiled at him and said, “Thank you.”
“Hey, Micah!” Ryan called out to where he was further down the street. “If we’re headed for your sister’s, that’s at the bathhouse, right?”
“Yeah?”
His parents hadn’t been at the inn or their friends’ party. They must have gone home already. Ryan wouldn’t be surprised if it was because of Hannah. She had gotten squeamish halfway through the parade.
It could also have any number of other things, of course. Like she needed a change of clothes or sleep, or his parents needed a change of clothes or sleep. They were newly second-time parents.
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Either way, Ryan had missed his chance. He couldn’t lead their caravan on a wild goose hunt through the city so he had passed.
Micah stopped at the intersection. It was just Lang, Jana, Finn, Billy, Darren, he, and himself now.
Ryan jogged up and tried to work how he could phrase this. He considered throwing an arm around him like Finn liked to do, but settled for walking pressed next to him. “So, uh, if she’s having a large party there, could you ask her if she could, uh … donate some beer she doesn’t need?”
“Aw, yes.” Finn pumped a fist and almost ran Micah over as he pushed up against his other side. “Peer pressure. How about it? Be our guy, Micah?”
He looked up at them in mock fear and slipped away, skipping a few steps ahead to get some room. He left a scent of smoke in his wake. They all did, no matter how much time passed.
“You know, I’m an [Alchemist],” he mused out loud.
“Yeah, we know that,” Finn said, in tone like he wanted to brush it off and get back to the topic on hand.
“I’m also an [Alchemist]?” Darren raised his hand behind them. When they looked, he shrugged. “Just saying.”
Micah smiled. “Yeah, but I’m a physical [Alchemist] so I’ll probably get constitution and poison resistance Skills someday, you know?”
“So?”
“So that means I might even get body Skills from those Skills and other stuff like that, someday.”
“What’s his point?” Finn asked him.
Ryan pushed up his shoulders. “Iunno. I honestly just wanted some beer.” He might not even have a point.
“My point is,” Micah said and looked at them, “one day, I’m so going to drink you all under the table.”
They all stopped walking for a step and Ryan needed a moment to process what he had said. He cracked up.
“Oho,” Finn said. “Is that a challenge?” He ran up to the guy and Micah fled before he could get him in a headlock. He only managed one halfway. Micah pushed back at his arm to keep it from closing in.
“What? It’s true,” he laughed. “I’m going to. Alright, alright, I’ll ask my sis if she’ll get you some beer, but just know that for the future.”
Finn let go. “Sure, sure. That’s all I wanted to hear.”
The warm glow down the street illuminated the bathhouse and crowd of people huddled outside.
Some kids half their age were still throwing small firecrackers around—cousins, friends of, or second cousins of Micah probably tiding over the time until the firework shows started.
The little rats actually aimed at them when they walked up and Ryan slapped a firecracker right back at the kid that had thrown it. He squeaked and ran away as it popped behind him.
His friends laughed at him.
Among the crowd, Ryan also spotted Micah’s parents and almost stopped walking altogether.
He didn’t know if their presence was a good thing or not, or how Micah would react to them. They had been distracted at the hospital, but the last time he had seen his dad before then—
He remembered the man screaming in his face.
“Micah!” his mom called out with a smile when she saw her son. He slowly walked up to her to say hi. Were they good?
They wrapped him up into conversation and Ryan didn’t know what to do for a second until he waved the others inside. Better that than stay outside and be noticed by them.
He could ask himself … right?
“Ah, nice and warm,” Jana said. “So this is …?”
“A bathhouse Micah’s sister owns,” Lang explained to her.
“Ah.”
Ryan ducked into the common room and didn’t see her, but did spot a few other familiar faces. And lots of actual champagne glasses with empty bottles not too far away. Confetti littered the ground.
“Are you looking for Micah?” one of the teens asked. She wasn’t that much younger than him.
“No. Prisha.”
“In the yard!” she pointed.
“Thanks.”
Ryan ducked back out and led the others down the hallway to the open space where he had first taught Micah sword-fighting. It was flipped now, from that warm sunny space he had napped sometimes in.
A crowd of adults stood around insular high tables, drinking, talking, and some even smoking cigars. He found Prisha on the balcony instead with a group of people closer to her age and her husband.
When she spotted him, she called out, “Ryan! Happy New Year. Are you looking for Micah?”
“Happy New Year,” he returned the gesture. “No, we were, uh— I mean, I was actually looking for you …?”
“You were?”
“Yeah, because … I mean, Micah said that we might be able to borrow some beer from you?” He pointed back at the doorway, as if she could see Micah all the way out on the street from here.
She raised her chin in amused surprise. Or maybe it wasn’t so amused. Her angry expressions tended to be warped happy ones, at first.
“Did he now?”
“I mean, uh, he would have asked himself, of course, ma’am,” Ryan rushed to say, “but his mom caught him off-guard before he could come inside and we were just standing around so I figured—”
Her posture relaxed a little. “It’s your birthday, right?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Well, then alright. But only because it’s your birthday. The crates are right over there.” She gestured to the side wall where they stood lined up. Easily half a dozen different brands and half-drunk six packs.
Harder stuff stood on a normal table further alone, with glasses.
“Oh.”
“Happy birthday, Ryan.”
“Thank you.” He glanced at the small crowd of people watching him and awkwardly nudged his head at the crates.
They took a small step toward them, another, and the tension broke when Finn called out, “Awesome, they have the good stuff.”
“Which ones?” Ryan had him show him and they picked out different brands each with the promise he could try, if he wanted. He said hi to Neil, too, who toasted him, and asked around for Ed but the man was apparently celebrating New Year somewhere else tonight.
“Oh, I haven’t even taught you the most important lesson about beer, have I?” Finn suddenly asked.
“No?”
“C’mon.” He led him down to the stone yard. “Now, this is really important to know, because people do it all the time. Hold your bottle out a little and hold it firm—”
“Uh … like this?” Ryan asked, unsure.
“Yeah!” Finn tapped the bottom of his bottle on his and lifted it away. Ryan didn’t even get what he had done for a second until the froth started rising up the neck of his bottle and overflew.
He cursed, held it further out, took a step back, and cursed again while the people around him laughed or scowled.
“Finn—”
“No!” he laughed. “You have to drink it. Drink it! That’s the lesson!”
Ryan only did it because he insisted. He tried to cover the spill with his mouth. Some of the drops fell on his neck. They felt sticky when he wiped them away with the back of his other hand.
“Don’t ever spill beer,” Finn said, pointing with one finger raised from his own bottle at him.
Ryan tried to swallow as much as he could and wiped his mouth with a glare. “Asshole.”
“Now you know.”
“Asshole,” he repeated, lighter this time, and stifled a snort.
“First time?” Prisha asked when he stepped back up onto the balcony.
Ryan apologized.
“You’ll get the hang of it. You said Micah was outside?”
“Yeah?”
“I want to wish him a happy new year, too,” she said and stepped closer to the door. “But say, you wouldn’t mind if I stole him for about an hour or so?”
“Uh, why?”
“To spend some time with?”
“Oh, we can hang out here—” Ryan started and quickly added. “If you don’t mind, I mean.”
“I don’t. But I don’t want to hang out here. I want to drop by someplace with him.”
“Oh. Uhm … I guess?” Ryan said. He wasn’t sure, and he wasn’t sure why he wasn’t sure.
It was Micah’s decision, in the end. They didn’t have much planned after this anyway. More games and watching the fireworks together. Though, that last bit was somehow important to him. Together.
Micah stepped inside just as they got to the door and went to hug his sister, saying the age-old phrase.
“If you’ve got nothing better planned,” she said as she pulled back, “I was wondering if we could go down Shay Street to the old well? You know, from the letter?”
Letter?
Recognition dawned on Micah’s face after a moment and he nodded, then looked at the others as if remembering them. Did that mean something to him? Which letter? Wait, the one from his brother?
“Uhm, do you—”
“It’s fine, we have other plans,” Ryan told him. This seemed like a sibling thing and he knew Micah had been missing his family.
“We do?” Darren asked.
“Yep,” Finn said, backing him up.
“See you later, then?”
They parted ways and their smaller group ducked out. Ryan avoided looking around for fear of seeing his parents as they headed back down the street whence they’d came. His beer bottle was uncomfortable sticky in his hand, now.
Dammit Finn.
“So what are these plans?” Billy asked. “Cause I was going to suggest something, unless you had something else in mind.”
“Ryan was lying through his teeth,” he said, “but I was actually thinking that I would duck out and … drop by Mandy’s.”
“Finn,” Ryan said.
“Finn, no,” Lang added. “She’s dumped you four times.”
“What? It’s not like I want to get back together,” he lied. It had to be a lie. “I just want to say hi and wish her a happy New Year. Y’know, touch base.”
“And get that belated New Year’s kiss?” Billy asked, nudging him with his elbow and a leer.
“As if you know anything about that, pipsqueak.”
He shrugged. “I do have a better idea, though. We could go to the classroom. They’re launching the fireworks from the yard and we could see it firsthand. I heard some of the others were headed there, too. It’ll be awesome.”
Ryan squinted as he made a mental map. Mandy’s house … He grinned and said, “Yes.”
Lang nodded as well. “Absolutely, go there.”
It was in the completely opposite direction. Finn scratched his neck and looked uncertain.
“Better yet, run there,” Ryan told him. “The sooner the better, cause that will double the distance. We’re taking the choice away from you. And we’ll be right behind you to catch up, promise.”
“Well, we won’t,” Lang said, stepped closing to Jana.
“Huh?”
“And what are you doing?” Finn asked him.
“We were thinking we would head back …” Lang said, checking with her. Was it ‘we’ already?
Billy gave them a knowing smile.
“‘Cause, you know, we left Tim and Cory there all alone,” she explained, “and they only really came because of us.”
“Sure, sure.”
“But you run to the fireworks,” Lang said and poked Finn’s chest. “You chase that horizon.”
His narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, slapping the finger away. “Oh, screw you—”
They chuckled.
“Alright?” Billy asked. “C’mon, we run? Or jog there. You won’t have the decision after all. Too much distance.”
Finn sighed and nodded. “Sure. If you assholes want me to be alone with a broken heart. See you two later, then?”
They nodded and headed off in the other direction, back to the youth center. Billy and Finn ran off toward the classroom and Ryan smiled as he watched them go. When they turned the corner, he frowned, and looked around.
If they had left and Micah was gone, then it was just him and—
Darren stood there, silent up to now with his own beer in hand.
Oh.
----------------------------------------
“Are you steady? Got a handhold?” his sister asked him as she held his hand.
He could barely see her in the darkness below. The only noticeable feature this side of the hill plaza was the lighter tone of stone from the block in the center that had once been a well.
He tested his grip on the stone behind him, pushed his feet down a little, and told her he was good.
“Are you sure? Because if you slip or let me drop—”
“I’m sure,” Micah insisted. He didn’t have [Lesser Strength] or even Ryan’s [Pack Aura] right now because of the distance, but he worked out like, all the time. He was strong for his age.
“Alright,” she said. “Three, two, one—”
She pulled herself up more than he did her and Micah had to hold on and dig his feet in to pull her up onto the ledge.
They weren’t there yet. There was still a small bit to climb up the side of the building and he showed her the way by placing her hands on the right places and confirming it when she asked.
She could barely see in this light. He had tried to shift the essences in the area, breathing in some and keeping them to make room for the traces of light essence he found and waxed, but it had only helped her marginally and himself more.
So, he was her guide up the building. It wasn’t like she lacked for strength. Stupid age and Skill advantages.
One day, Micah told himself, he would have [Greater Strength] and lift people with one hand or simply jump onto high buildings instead of having to climb. He looked forward to it.
It was only a few more minutes until they crested the wall and saw the rivers of light that flowed through half the city. And they could see half of the city. Orange, yellow, white, they came in all shapes and colors. There were pauses here and there, plazas, and brightly lit buildings.
He could even see a part of the Great River in the distance, bridges and the sides of the water lit up by lanterns, the center by boats, and of course the Tower, the silver pillar that parted the sky.
Its base was still lit up by different colors that slowly shifted into another and part of its wall were decorated.
He dragged his legs over and sat down next to his sister, hands holding onto the stone ledge.
“Wow.”
“So this is what Aaron wanted us to see?”
“I bet.”
For her, at least. Because Micah could see so much more. Light essences, mostly, contrasted strongly against the patches of dark. Depending on their source, the fire potion that was used to fill its lanterns, the rivers blurred into rolling flames, fractured shards of glass, dandelion blooms, or even paintings.
And the silver Tower essence that roamed from the pillar pushed through it all like a fog and lit up the nooks and crannies.
Even here, with his sister, it slowed in its travel to look at them, then ran away like an eavesdropping kid when it noticed Micah staring back. It observed at everything, but didn’t like to be observed in turn?
Huh. Not that he could be angry. It was almost like an old friend. So if and when it came close enough, he raised his fingers a little to run through it like rivers of silver water in the sky.
Fingers parted from the silver to clasp his hand for a few seconds before moving on again.
After a second, Micah closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the Tower essence was gone and the rivers of light were covered in a different kind of blur. But even that was beautiful.
He so wanted to bring people here, someday. He wanted to show this view to Ryan and all his other friends. Lisa and hopefully even Anne. How was there not an observation patio in this place?
But maybe this was better. It was private. Hidden. Something just for them who knew about it.
“I wish Aaron and Maya were here.” He really wished his brother shown him this in person.
Prisha nodded and wiped back a strand of hair. “I wonder where they are right now; what they’re doing. Are they having fun? Getting drunk? With friends? In an inn, or a hotel, or a caravanserai, or a bar, or tavern? Oh, what if they’re on a boat? Maybe they’re on the sea right now.”
“What if they’re fighting monsters, right now,” Micah said, “or in a place where they can’t even enjoy New Year’s?”
His sister took in a sharp breath and whispered, “What if they have no fireworks or alcohol?”
“You could have just said fireworks.”
He felt her smile by the vague shift in her posture. It was strange sitting next to her. Some days, Micah didn’t even feel like he recognized her. Like she was a cousin rather than his sister. And on others, he knew it was her coming down the hallway because of the sound of her steps.
He didn’t have to look, but when he did, he saw her smile was a sad one. Even in this dim light.
He blinked again to see clearer and a wisp of silver mimicked her expression as it passed by.
That uneasy feeling it caused in him matched his thoughts, I wonder when we are going to see them again.
What he said was, “We’re going to see them again, someday soon.”
“You think so?”
“Mhm. I know it. Aaron always comes to visit, sooner or later, and— And Maya told them, didn’t she? Family above all else.”
“Family above all else,” Prisha repeated. “Those were her words.”
They were also Lisa’s.
Essence has no dominion. He wondered which Path his sister had. Or maybe it was just a coincidence.
The sat in silence for a few moments longer. Eventually, Prisha asked, “Do you want to wait here or—”
The lights illuminating the Tower rapidly changed, flickering through different shapes and colors. He knew what she had been about to ask, but time had decided for them. Dozens of raindrops of light climbed their way up the night sky all over the city with the faint whistle on the wind.
The first salvo was little more than the midnight one, a bloom of dandelions. The second was of names and presentations, getting the credits out of the way before rather than after.
Then came the light show. The living paper chain sprites from earlier had been a small miracle in comparison to the titans that came to life in the sky above them, sparks set in a way that gave them depth. Knights, and beasts, and living patterns like dance performances.
Micah stared in awe. He could see so many of them at once, without one obscuring the other. He wouldn’t have to scamper around the city to try and find a place to see more than a few.
His sister nudged him. She had to raise her voice so he could hear her, but it still sounded like a whisper. “You can run off now, if you want. Don’t you want to watch this with your friends?”
“No,” he said. “I’d rather watch it here, with you.”
She smiled and wrapped an arm around his other shoulder to pull his head to her own.
“By the way, I’m totally strong,” he raised his own voice. “I just struggled earlier because you’re heavy.”
“Micah.” She quickly dropped the arm.
He laughed and a dragon breathed fire overhead.
The second time, he came back to a youth center in its aftermath. Bottles, leftovers, dishes, and more were stashed everywhere. The board games hadn’t been cleaned up. One of the windows was left open.
He closed it.
There weren’t as many people around; only five were on the bottom floor who played kicker.
Micah suppressed a yawn on his way up the stairs and wished he had some stamina potion, like the last two times he’d been in the Tower. He wanted to make the important days last.
Upstairs were a bunch of teens in pajama bottoms, but only Finn, Billy, and Jana of his close friends were among the crowd. They sat in a small circle and played cards, but were mostly settled in by the look of things.
“Hey,” he called as he took his shoes off. He didn’t want to bring any dirt in where they would sleep, later. “Where are the others?”
“Sol’s running around with her friends,” Finn caught him up. “Lang ran home to get blankets. Darren went home, I think. And uh—”
“Ryan?” Micah asked.
He squinted. “Not sure. Haven’t seen him in a bit. I’m sure he’s somewhere around here.”
It was a shame Darren was gone, but maybe Micah could drop by his place tomorrow or something? Or by the shop, when it opened up again in the new year.
“Lang left a while ago,” Jana said. “He should have been back by now. Maybe they ran into each other?”
“Ha,” Finn said. “They’re probably out looking for you.”
“Well, I’m here,” Micah said and mulled it over for a moment “ … just not sure for how long.”
“You got somewhere to be?”
“Maybe to go looking for them?”
Billy smiled and shifted how he sat. “Wouldn’t that be counter-intuitive? You running around in circles? Better to stay here and play Fishing with us losers. You can have my hand if you want?”
“Mm … fine.” That did sound sensible. Micah went over to fetch his bedroll, dragged it to their circle, and sat down.
They started up a new round and switched games to something a little more exciting, Magician. It was a little bit of a guessing game, but mostly a threat-assessment one. Which cards would your opponents have? Which cards could you afford to use to beat theirs in the free-for-all?
Halfway through the round, Micah stifled a yawn. That decided it for him. He got third place in the first round and they wanted to start another, or maybe play another game, but he shook his head and got up.
He was restless. He couldn’t wait around here or he would grow tired and maybe fall asleep.
So he moved his limbs, trying to pump himself up, and told them, “I’ll drop by if I don’t find them after one spot, to check in if they arrived yet, but I’m going to go look for them for a bit.”
“If you feel like you must.”
Micah nodded. It would be good to get some movement. But where did he head first? He thought it over as he fit his shoes on and headed down the stairs. If they really were looking for him … the bathhouse?
First stop. From here, there was really only one route they would take. But from Lang’s house was another thing. Micah took the latter and decided he would loop back to check in like he had said.
He’d cover all the paths they might be on, that way. Unless, of course, they arrived and decided to head straight back out again and they ran in circles, and circles, and circles all night.
Micah doubted that would happen.
He didn’t see anyone all the way up to the bathhouse, and the people there said they hadn’t seen either of them. He did find Sol on his way back, though, and called out to her as he jogged up.
“Hey, Sol! Have you seen Ryan? Or Lang?”
“Nope and yeah. He went back to the house to get some blankets, I think. For his girlfriend. Like a freaking lapdog.”
“Oh.” Micah didn’t know if he should comment. His own siblings were all much older than him, not a single year, and they didn’t have the added complication of being cousins, actually.
He remembered he had been a little jealous of Neil, back during the wedding, but Sol didn’t sound it. She just sounded … disapproving. Had she been expecting someone else from him?
Either way, it probably wasn’t any of his business. “And Ryan? Was he with him or at your guys’ house?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Haven’t seen him in a while and we’ve been making the rounds. Why, are you looking?”
He nodded.
“Have you checked his parents’ house?” she asked.
“Not yet. I’ll head there after this.”
“I can check my place if you want me to,” she offered. “I doubt I would find him, but I could head there anyway.”
“If you want to? See you back at the center later?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. I might just drop by and hang out with the others. See you then.”
She waved and Micah glanced down the street, considering, but shook his head and changed courses. His parent’s house first. That way, he wouldn’t have to go all the way back and here again.
The only problem was that the house was dark and quiet when he got there, and Micah felt awkward just being around it as his shoes scuffed the ground, like that could somehow wake them up inside.
He checked the back as quietly as possible, just to be sure he wasn’t in the garden, but there was no Ryan. His windows were closed. Or rather, the windows of the nursery were.
Definitely sleeping, he figured. They got so little sleep already, so he wouldn’t wake them just to ask.
And neither would Ryan, he realized. Of course, he wouldn’t. So if not here, where was he?
Micah jogged back the way he’d came, trying to hurry to save time. The city calmed, this late into the night. He spotted more and more people on their ways home from parties and visits and kept an eye out when he did, but there were no familiar faces among the crowds.
At the center, he rushed up the stairs and ducked his head inside. “Ryan?” he asked, holding onto the doorframe.
People stared, the three from earlier among them.
“No Ryan.”
“Nope,” Finn said.
No Lang either. Was Sol not back yet? Then that could be the only place he was, right? Their house.
Ugh.
“We were headed for the classroom, earlier,” Billy said. “To see the fireworks up close? I think that was the last time I saw him. Might be worth checking out the area around there.”
“Maybe they’re at the bridge?” Finn said.
Oh, right.
It would be a detour, but not a large one. Micah could duck by there to check it out, both the bridge and the classroom yard, and head to Lang’s house. If they were there, there was no way he would miss them.
He gave them a thumbs-up. “Got it. Thanks! See you in a bit.”
“Have fun!”
Micah rushed down the stairs and back into the cold. He reflexively tucked his hands into his sleeves to warm up. He was surprised how little of his breath showed in the cold air, even with essences.
But he was headed toward their old classroom and the direction alone soon brought up all sorts of old memories, some good, some bad. He wondered if people would still be there at this time. Teens like to hang around those sorts of places and Billy had mentioned the fireworks.
Maybe Ryan had bumped into some more old classmates? He thought of Camille and wondered what she was doing, tonight. But that made him think of Anne again and he shook off the thoughts.
He would see them later. He had to focus on the here and now or he would lament their absence all night.
He ran by the canal, spotted no one on the bridge where they usually hung out in the summer, and almost passed it by when he spotted a figure sitting on his own on the low wall of the opposite side of the river.
He had a lone beer bottle in hand and looked down at the water, shoulders hunched in exhaustion.
“Darren?”
His head snapped up and he looked across the water at him as Micah crossed the bridge to meet up.
He was surprised he was still here. Finn had said he’d gone home. Maybe he could convince him to come hang out again?
But first things first. “Have you—” Micah started and noticed the look on his face. Have you seen Ryan? he’d wanted to ask. “Have— Are you alright?” he asked the guy instead.
He stared for a moment longer and nodded.
“What are you doing here?”
After a second, he turned to look back at the water “I was just thinking.”
Micah leaned against the side of the bridge near its end so he could face him while he asked, “Whatchu’ thinking about?”
“Stuff. Nothing,” he sighed. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Ah?”
“You were right, you know?”
“I was? About what?”
“About Ryan. That he’s— Well, I’m not sure if I would call him a great guy, but he’s alright.”
Micah frowned, surprised he was talking about him. But then again, they had been hanging out all evening. Had Ryan convinced him? Made a good impression? Darren looked too unhappy for that to be true, unless he was a sore loser …
He doubted that. Something else. “Did he say something?” he asked. “Or … did you say something?”
Mentally, he steeled himself. He could have been the biggest asshole in the world to someone else and Micah wouldn’t have cared. He would keep his word if Darren decided to talk crap about him again.
But the guy shook his head again and rubbed his face with the butt of his hand. He ran it up and pressed it against his left eye for a second and Micah stifled a yawn a moment after he did.
“Never got the chance.”
So he would have said something? Micah wasn’t sure if that was so much better. It was his birthday.
But he looked like he was in glum contemplation, staring at the waters, and he knew people tended to get into those around the big days like these—he had tended to get into them himself—but he didn’t know what to do, how to help, or how to fix this … Unless, did it need fixing?
Micah tried a smile. “You’re still wrong, though. He’s more than just ‘alright’. Ryan is awesome.”
Darren looked at him. “‘You really think that?”
“Of course. He’s Ryan. Everyone thinks so. You know, with how great he is at school and everything and—”
“Ah.” Darren just said, interrupting with the word alone. One syllable and it sounded like he had figured it all out.
Micah didn’t know what ‘it’ was, though. “What?”
Again, that grim headshake. Again— “Nothing,” he said. “Just … don’t be too harsh on him, okay?”
He tried to parse that, couldn’t, and almost chuckled. “What? What do you mean?”
“Ryan. If he screws up or—”
“Ryan doesn’t screw up,” Micah told him. “And even if he does, nobody is harsher on him than he himself. Trust me—”
“I do.”
“But— Oh, uhm. I’m glad.” Micah needed to find his train of thought again. He’d come here for a reason, even if he had to shoehorn it in. Right. “But on that note,” he said, “I don’t know if he screwed up or if I did, or but I think we might have miscommunicated and now we’re running in circles.”
“What?”
He looked up sharply without raising his head.
“I think we’re both looking for each other. And maybe Lang, too. ‘Cause they weren’t at the center? I mean, I was wondering if you’ve seen Ryan? Because I’ve been looking all over for him and I haven’t been able to find him.”
Micah looked around with a squint like he was some object in the distance he could spot, then turned the other way and stretched up, trying to see down the road leading up to the classroom.
“I— I dunno,” Darren said and cleared his throat. “But … I think he might have gone home?”
“Home?”
“Yeah. He, uh, headed in that direction last I saw him.”
Micah swiveled around in surprise. Darren pointed right back the way he had come at Ryan’s house.
He shook his head. “Nope. I was already there and everyone was sleeping. Why? Did he say something?”
“Not exactly, but uh— I just thought he might have. I just got that impression. I don’t know.”
If he wasn’t headed home … then maybe ‘home’? As in, back to school? The route they took went from his house out. But why would he head all that way? Had he forgotten something there?
Oh, what if he was getting Kyle?
Micah perked up at the thought. He had been gone with his sister anyway and Ryan had said he had other plans. Maybe he had gone back to convince the other guy to come celebrate?
It would explain why he was still gone.
“Are you sure you should be looking for him?” Darren asked.
Micah rolled his eyes. “I know. We might miss each other. But there’s only one way he could have taken for that route, so I might be able to catch him on his way back.”
“And if not?”
He shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll have to go back and wait for him. Lose some card games in the meantime. He’ll show up eventually. By the way, are you going to come back? We’re having a sleepover, if you want to bring your own bedroll …?” he trailed off, making it an offer.
Darren shook his head without hesitation this time. “No. I think I’ll head home myself, after this.”
“Oh. Well, I’m glad you came? It was fun,” Micah said.
He paused mid-frown and asked, “Micah, did Ryan tell you to invite me? Or— Or one of the others?”
“Uhm, that’d be a ‘no’?”
“Right. I thought as much.”
Micah really wished Darren would get out of that mood because he might not enjoy the evening that way, if only in hindsight. But he’d seemed like he’d had a lot of fun earlier, with the others …
Maybe this was just something he needed.
He slipped his hand off the railing and took a step back. “Well, I’m going to go, then. Happy New Year?”
Darren suddenly raised his head after all. “Yeah, but … just remember what I said, okay?” he asked.
“About …?”
“Don’t be too harsh on the guy.”
Micah tried not to smile in amusement. Was he actually … worried about the guy? Had Ryan left that good of an impression on him? Oh, or did he feel guilty for what he had said earlier?
Micah knew he would, if he had talked crap about someone behind their back and turned out to be wrong.
He cleared his throat again and asked with forced casualness, “Like, if he needs some space alone, just … give it to him?”
He didn’t know what Lang was on about. Darren was alright. “Don’t worry.” Micah smiled at him. “We can be alone together.”
He didn’t return it, but then Micah was already jogging off. He gave him a one-handed salute over his shoulder and headed for the road they usually took whenever they headed to or from school.
He didn’t see him right away, but it was a familiar road, and soon enough, Micah lost himself in the scenery until he found himself standing outside campus and staring up at their dorm buildings.
The campus looked abandoned, the near-silence echoed in his ears, and Miah suddenly realized how long he had been gone. How far away he was from the others. What would they think?
But he was already here, so he might as well check. He found his keys, climbed up the staircase, and headed down the hall to knock on the door. It opened an inch when he did, so he peeked inside.
Only Kyle was in and he sat alone on his bed with a single lamp lighting up the darkness. The others were all probably celebrating New Year’s with their families around the city.
Micah sagged a little. So he’d come all this way for nothing?
“Micah? What the hell are you doing here?”
“Looking for Ryan,” he sighed.
“Why? Where is he?”
“If I knew …” He let the back of his head rest on the doorframe. He must have missed him somewhere obvious, or just out of poor luck. Maybe he had taken a shortcut or a back road or—
He was probably back at the center already, playing cards with the others, and wondering where the hell he was.
And Micah was all alone near the end of New Year’s again. Well, maybe not alone. There was Kyle, but—
The guy glared at him. “He’s not here,” he said.
Translation: Leave.
“I know. I’ll just—” He pointed over his shoulder and wordlessly ducked back out into the hallway. He shut the door, leaned against the wall a few steps down, and let himself slip to the floor.
He yawned.
Maybe if he waited for just a few more minutes, Ryan would show up? Maybe if he ran off now, they would miss each other again …
He let his head loll and stared past his reflection in the dark windows ahead. He yawned a few more times and closed his eyes each time to take deep breaths. He just … needed calm breaths and he’d be up and running in a second …
Ryan shook him awake. He had a blank expression on his face that looked like he was ready to fall asleep the moment his head hit the bed. His eyes were bloodshot and Micah looked at the windows, wondering what time it was, how long the guy had been awake, how long he had slept.
Then he kicked himself. He probably hadn’t slept yet because he was looking for him.
Had anyone else gone looking? They had to know Micah could take care of himself, right?
“I was looking for you,” Micah started, his voice barely a whisper. He wanted to explain but he could barely think straight. His mind was swimming in water.
“I know,” he said. His voice matched his expression.
“Where were you?”
“At Lang’s.”
“Oh.”
Stupid, stupid. He knew he had forgotten something. Micah stood up on wobbly feet. He steadied himself against the wall and frowned, feeling like he had forgotten something.
Ryan took another step back, his hands still stuck in his new jacket’s pockets. He shivered. Was he cold?
“Do we—” Another yawn interrupted and the exhaustion suddenly crept up on his face. Micah had to look like shit. He rubbed his eyes awake and asked, “Do we head back to the center?”
He shook his head and nodded at the doors down the hall, mumbling, “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
He waited and Micah started walking ahead wondering if he was angry. He’d screwed up. He had ruined the sleepover for him, and for the others probably, too, if they were worried. All because of his impatience and because he had taken a break.
Micah scrunched up his face in frustration and pain, Ryan opened the door for him, and he froze and stared.
His hand was covered in blood.
His body kicked itself awake and Micah almost reached for his knife when he realized they weren’t in danger. He took a deep breath to fill his lungs with fresh air and the two together gave him all the physical awareness with all the mental strain pulling on the back of his skull.
He took a step closer and tried to grab his arm. “Ryan.”
He yanked it away and took a step back and around, pushing Micah through the door with his presence alone.
He took a step back and asked, “What happened?”
Ryan hung back as he let the door ease shut behind him. He almost leaned on it. “Nothing.”
“That’s not nothing. Your hand—”
“My knuckles.”
“We need to clean them. I have healing salve in my room. Just—”
He was already shaking his head with an almost pained expression. “I’m too tired, Micah. In the morning?”
He stepped closer and Micah didn’t move until he gently set his hands on his shoulders and pushed him back toward the stairs. It wasn’t just the one hand covered in blood. It was both. The wounds on his knuckles had clotted already, but he couldn’t see much in the darkness.
“But what happened?” he asked. Ryan held him steady as he fumbled backward up the stairs. “Why are they even bloody? Did you— Did you punch someone? Did you punch Darren?”
Ryan froze. “What?”
“Did you beat someone up? Because if you did—”
“I didn’t punch anyone,” he said and it sounded just insistent enough that Micah didn’t listen right away.
Ryan lies, he remembered. But that wasn’t a bad thing. Everyone lied, the guy had assured him.
“If you did,” he pushed on, “that would be fine. You could tell me. I wouldn’t care. Or I’d help, as long as I get to heal your knuckles after.”
Ryan stared. “No.”
“What? I just mean—”
“No, Micah. That wouldn’t be fine. You— What are you even saying?”
“Just that—” He hesitated and just said it, “That I trust you?”
The guy searched his face for a long moment and asked, “Without even knowing anything?”
“Yeah, sure.” He didn’t know why his knuckles were hurt, but Micah trusted him to have a good reason. Or maybe it had even been an accident or something stupid, like … had Lang dared him to do a ton of push-ups on his fists?
“How?” Ryan asked.
How did he trust him?
Micah smiled. “Because it’s you. You would have a good reason, right? You always do. You would be the, ah, ‘just’ side of the fight,” he said and felt embarrassed, but he figured the guy would appreciate the word. “I trust your judgement.”
“And what if it’s wrong?” he asked. “What if I’m the bad guy or— Or what if I just decide to beat someone up for no good reason at all?”
Micah shrugged. “Then I’d still back you up. You’re my friend.”
“No.” He took another step down. “If I’m— If I do something wrong, you can’t just ignore it, Micah.”
“Well, no,” he said.
“If I do, I want you to stop being friends with me.”
The words died in his throat. He worked through the thick soup in his head, but no matter how hard or in which way he tried to understand that sentence, he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.
He did understand how serious this discussion was to Ryan all the sudden. That … that Micah wouldn’t just blindly trust him?
Why?
There were so many words he wanted to say, but the only thing that came out was, “No.”
Ryan took a deep breath.
“Never.”
He took a step down to meet him halfway and said, “Look, I’m … sorry. I’m sorry for making you come all this way, and ruining your birthday, and talking bullshit. I don’t even know what I’m saying. I’m tired. But of course, if you do something wrong, I’ll call you out on your bullshit. But … But I’d rather do that, get in fights with you, than ever stop being your friend.”
He needed to be sure he understood that. Micah took another step down and Ryan stepped off the staircase entirely. He wouldn’t look at him.
Had he really gotten into a fight? With whom?
Ryan shook his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Micah. It’s just— I’m only human. I make mistakes.”
“I know that,” Micah said, but he didn’t seem to have heard him. He didn’t know what to do and thought of Darren’s advice, how little it had made sense … until now. Don’t be too harsh on him.
If he made a mistake? If he didn’t meet the expectations he put on himself? Nobody was harsher on himself than Ryan.
Oh.
How the hell had Darren seen that in just one night and Micah only now? Whatever he had done wrong, it didn’t matter.
“I’m going to heal your hands,” Micah decided.
“Micah—”
“Tomorrow, if you insist. It’s fine. But I’m going to do it. You can’t stop me. If you bust your hands up, I’ll heal them. That’s the consequence. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before you bust your hands up again.”
Thank fuck, Ryan looked at him again and Micah felt a weight fall off his shoulders. What else had Darren said? To give him space? Did he really want to follow his advice? But … he didn’t want to screw this up.
“I’m so freaking tired,” he said, almost like it was a joke.
“Me, too,” Ryan said. He almost smiled. Almost. Then he nodded and repeated himself, “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
Micah let him lead him up the stairs again. He shelved all the many questions buzzing around in his head for tomorrow morning, or even later. He was used to that much, at least.
He’d have to find some way to make it up to the others, then. Apologize. He wanted to apologize right now but knew he couldn’t. Not with the mood Ryan was in. So instead, he smiled when he got the door of the walkway to his room, as if to thank him, and said, “Happy Birthday, Ryan.”
“Happy New Year, Micah.”
They parted ways. Then he stepped outside. It was cold out but he didn’t mind. It had started snowing without him even noticing and other people were out, too. He spotted someone in the yard as they left.