Honestly, you guys are too sweet. The positive response that this story is getting warms my heart. Hugs, hugs, hugs! <33 The posts are actually about ten pages behind the extent of the story thus far, ergo I hope to get out these parts a little faster! Cheers!

----

“What do you guys say to lunch?” Jack asked, attempting to redirect the conversation.

“I thought we were going to the library,” Alex said.

“Well, sure, but the cafeteria’s right here and I’m hungry,” Jack insisted.

“But—” Alex tried.

“It wouldn’t kill you to eat a sandwich or something, Alex,” Adri sighed, opening the door with a flourish.

“I don’t like sandwiches.”

“Aw, Alex,” Jack said. “We’ll be quick. Plenty of time to go to the library after, and, honestly, you do know people need to eat to survive?”

“Of course I know that,” Alex said, trying desperately to pretend he wouldn’t do anything Jack asked so long as he stuck out his lower lip like that and silently pleaded at him with those wide eyes.

“Fine,” Alex grumbled.

Jack and Adri high fived. “Yay!”

Alex rolled his eyes and followed her into the cafeteria. “You guys are disproportionately excited about me agreeing to have lunch.”

“Hey, this is you we’re talking about,” Jack shrugged. “I’m pretty sure you would never eat or sleep if you didn’t need to in order to not die.”

“Oui, c’est Alex d’accord,” Adri smirked.

“Tais-toi,” Alex said, sticking out his tongue at her.

Jack groaned. “I don’t speak French, people!”

“Oh, I know,” Adri and Alex said in unison before totally cracking up.

“I was going to offer to buy you two food, but I guess you don’t want it,” Jack said, leading the way over towards one of the three little crevices on separate sides of the room.

It was best described like a food court in a mall, with far fewer choices. There was a small grill that served burgers and the like (the students affectionately referred to it as “Hot Stuff”), a soup and sandwich cart, as well as the green-tiled nook that doled out basically everything else you could think of.

“Didn’t say anything,” Alex quickly amended, blinking innocently.

Jack had reached the sandwich-zone and was about to grab three plastic-packaged chicken pesto ones when he remembered Alex’s statement from earlier. “Wait, do you not like sandwiches, Al?”

“Nah, they’re great, actually. I was just trying to be annoying.”

“You succeeded,” Adri said.

“How dare thee!” Alex recoiled backward dramatically.

They dissolved into playful bickering as Jack shored out a ten to pay for the sandwiches.

“Stop with the arguing, y’all,” He said, tossing each of them a container. “I guess now we’re heading to the—”

Alex cut him off. “Did you just say y’all?” A mischievous grin was slowly spreading across his friend’s face.

“Um. Yes?”

“Oh my god,” Alex clapped a hand to the side of his head and started giggling wildly. Adri gave him a look of utter perplexity, one that was probably mirrored on Jack’s own face.

“Is there a problem with that?” Jack said, casually trying not to pay attention how Alex’s whole posture relaxed when he laughed, his eyes releasing some so usually-present tension Jack only noticed it when it was absent.

Alex finally got ahold of himself, and after a few choked coughs said, “No, no, it was just kind of cute.”

He grinned at Jack— it rode up on his face farther left than right, like always— then took out his sandwich and gave it an experimental nibble. “Hey, pretty good.”

Flour from the ciabatta roll had latched itself onto Adri’s fingers, and she daintily licked it off before nodding agreement.

The conversation and eating continued towards the library, but Jack wasn’t really registering much of it because Alex’s smile-pressed voice was replaying on a constant loop in his head— It was kind of cute, it was kind of cute and maybe he was looking too much into it but holy crap he was sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night. 

“Jaaack! Have you seen Rach’s dolly?” His little sister, Moriah, poked her head into Jack’s room, where he was procrastinating on his math homework.

He didn’t grace her with a reply until after a momentary pause, scribbling down a probably incorrect value. “Not recently.”

“Oh. Well. What’re you doing?” Moriah leapt from the doorway onto his bed, bouncing a on the blue sheets before lying down on her stomach, chin propped up on her left hand.

“Homework,” Jack sighed. “Honestly, Mo, can you leave me alone?”

“Nope!” Moriah chirped.

Mo, at age eleven, was usually least irritating of his younger siblings in Jack’s mind, though she certainly had her moments of annoyingness.

Jack rolled around his desk chair (he had gotten it the year before for his birthday— it was grey, some sort of fake leather, and way too nice for the time he actually used it. Honestly, it was much more fun to draw on the floor or stretched out in an armchair), and sighed as Mo smirked at him.

“Can’t you just play with Rachel or something?”

Moriah scrunched up her freckle - spattered nose and flipped over onto her back. “Would you want to play with an eight year old? Honestly, she has no volume or impulse control, and Luke is worse—”

Opting to ignore her (which had never once succeeded, no matter what the adults said) Jack turned back to his math. Algebra was frustrating as hell.

He actually managed to forget about Mo’s presence for about five minutes, tapping his fingers on the white-painted wood as he focused. It was kind of a nervous tic. Sometimes it would be random patterns, others instances he’d silently practice his piano pieces without even realizing it.

Then Moriah said, “Do you have any friends?”

“Well, sure,” Jack said, a little startled by the abruptness of the question.

“Really?”

“Are you so surprised by that?” Jack joked, raising an eyebrow.

“I mean, don’t know if I do. How can you tell if someone is your friend? For real?”

Jack set down his pencil and plopped onto the bed next to Moriah, who had tucked her chin into her knees and had her arms wrapped around her legs.

Jack bit his lip and thought. Alex would be able to explain it. Alex always knew what to say, with his wonderful, weird, way with words, but he wasn’t Alex. He was just Jack, better with a sketch pencil than with talking. “Sometimes… sometimes you just feel it, you know?”

Mo was silent, chewing on a strand of hair. She used to do that a lot when she was Rachel’s age, but Jack thought she since had outgrown the anxious habit. Apparently not.

“There are people I have lunch with and talk to and they’re nice and I like them and all, but… “ She made a face. “I don’t think I would trust them with much.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, thinking about Benson. “Yeah, I get it. Someday, Mo, you’re going to make the most awesome friends ever and you’ll just… click and love them more than anything and they’ll always be there for you. Just you wait.”

Mo jumped at Jack and hugged him so tightly Jack made a loud choking sound, and he was only half-kidding. “Whoa there, tiger!”

“Roar!” Mo swiped a hand, fingers curled into claws, at her brother’s face, who ducked and rolled off the bed.

Moriah sat up. “Oh, right. I was supposed to tell you that dinner’s ready.”

Jack jumped to his feet, almost slipping on a sheet of paper covered in half-finished sketches. “Damn — I mean, darn it, you didn’t hear that — I’m late.”

“Well, so am I, genius,” Mo said. “Race you!” She bolted out into the hallway.

“You cheater!” Jack called after her, sliding in his socks around the third story and leaping down the first set of stairs.

Awww my goodness! It's SO CUTE! *hugs* I just stumbled upon this and read it through and aaaah I love it so much!

I think that this is awesome and interesting. We haven't seen Jack's family before this. This is amazing! Please keep writing this story, Abi! 

-Nianad  

Ayyy here's a long one <3 

I just want to put this out there: Alex is my baby and nOBODY CAN HURT HIM (except me since I'm the writer and have, uh, put him through the wringer a bit. Or a lot). 

----- 

Benson showed up in their English class and Jack nearly choked on the mouthful of peppermint tea he had stolen from Alex’s thermos.

“Uh, you okay?” Alex asked, fingers curled around the cup.

“Fine and dandy,” Jack said drily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Adri glanced towards where Benson was talking animatedly to someone, a disinterested-looking boy with dark skin and hair and eyes. “Oh, I see.”

“Honestly, it’s just that I’ve gotten used to not seeing him around,” Jack said. “I was spoiled, the last two years.”

Alex nodded sagely, taking another sip of tea. “I feel you. There are people I know that I’d scream of joy if they went off to France for awhile.”

“Don’t inflict them on my poor family back there,” Adri said.

----- 

The first Halloween Alex could distinctly remember was when he was five. Before, he had bits and pieces, mostly because of the photos dashed here and there among their family photo album— orange-frosted sugar cookies, plastic skeletons sitting on their front steps, Liza beaming in a blue princess dress.

He had a picture of his five-year-old Halloween, too, but just one, and it was the only one that wasn’t in the thick, leather book that sat on a shelf in the living room next to a vase constantly filled with pink flowers.

Lilies.

The snapshot was square, probably taken from a polaroid camera, the contrast up too high, and it was a bit blurry. Liza was there, dressed up as Robin Hood. Her hair was still brown at this point, and long, tied into two braids underneath her peaked green felt cap. She had made it herself. Alex could still see her, proudly holding it in front of his face and saying, “Look, Al! Look what I did!”

He was standing next to her, wearing a superhero costume, chest puffed out,. He had just lost his first tooth, and it was clearly visible as he grinned, squinty-eyed, at whoever it was that had taken the picture.

He looked silly, but in the little-kid way that made adults go “Aww”. Alex recognized the cape he was wearing. In fact, he still had it— It was cut from an old yellow blanket that had been fraying at the edges for a considerable amount of time.

It was in a box in his closet, a soft flannel rectangle. You wouldn't know it had once been a cape save for the tiny holes in the upper corners where one could thread a ribbon and tie it around one’s neck.

He sometimes took it out. Not often, just now and then, when he was feeling quiet. Because it smelled like lilies and, if he closed his eyes and ran his hand down it, he could pretend it was mum’s cream cashmere sweater.

Mum was in this photo too. He had lots more of her, but this one was his favorite. Her dark hair spilled down her shoulders like a waterfall, pushed away from her eyes with a flower crown. They were real plants, sweet-scented and strong.

He recalled burying his face in her shoulder and breathing, deep, religiously inhaling the fragrant warmth. For years— years — afterward he searched for that aroma. He went to flower shop after flower shop and sniffed plants until he got kicked out. The workers there either couldn’t or wouldn’t help him.

He didn’t know the name of the blossoms, and people gaped at him strangely when he said they “looked like stars and smelled like summer sunsets”. They gave him petunias and orchids and campanulas and orange carnations.

Then when he was eleven, he and Liza were sitting on a couch. It was brown and tweed and extremely uncomfortable. Liza had a book but she wasn’t really paying attention to it, Alex could tell— She hadn’t yet turned a page even though they’d been waiting for almost half an hour, and her eyes kept darting up and around and back down again.

Alex wasn’t, for once, reading or writing. He was trying to be a still as possible, but his fingers were entwining and unlooping with one another almost of their own accord.

It was a relief and yet not when their social worker entered, trailed by a small woman with golden-bronze hair and kind eyes and a bouquet of flowers clutched in her hand.

The social worker’s name was Ryan, and Alex didn’t particularly care for him. He was nice enough, but Alex and Liza shared similar sentiments about his detached, monotone, drawl and how he never seemed to look you in the eye.

Ryan introduced the lady as “Sarah, your new foster parent.”

The words “and hopefully last” were left unspoken but felt nonetheless.

Sarah was warm and had a trusty smile. She said hello, made all the usual introductions, and then held out the bouquet, wrapped in pale pink tissue paper.

“They’re for you. I know that flowers probably can’t make it easier to be in a new place, but I hope you like them, anyway. These have always been my favorites.”

Alex’s heart stopped.

He took them, just held them for a moment, and they were so very there, in bright, freckled brilliance, white-edged pink petals, long, elegant stems. He breathed them in.

They smelled just like he remembered. Sweet. So sweet. Like candy and liquid afternoons and home.

Sarah told them later that they were stargazer lilies.

They had at least one vase full of them in the house at all times. It wasn’t a rule. It just was. Always, always, always.

This is really interesting! I love this story, and I like how we get to see parts of the main characters' life outside from each other. Keep writing this please! 

-Nianad  

Wow, this story is amazing! Great job!!

this is an amazing thread! Please top! 

Somebody give Alex a hug, poor bby <3

---- 

“Alex?” Sarah sat down next to him on the couch, carrying a glass of water. She had just started raising it to her lips before offering— “You thirsty?”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Alex said, turning another page in the photo album. “Look, it’s Liza.”

Sarah chuckled at the picture he pointed at, which only captured about half of Alex’s sister, hands in front of her face, trying to duck out of the frame.

“She used to hate photos,” Alex said thoughtfully. “Now, someone so much as touches a camera and she and Ria are vying to see who can take up more space in the frame.”

“Speaking of which,” Sarah said, fumbling with her phone as she pulled it out of her pocket, “I got an email from Liz a bit ago…. here—” She handed the device to Alex, who squinted at the screen.

Sarah! Alex! Guess what! I have some good news for you drumroll please…

There were several line breaks here, then a  few words—

Drumroll harder….

Another blank expanse—

HARDER!

Laughing, Alex scrolled down to the final portion.

Okay, okay, good enough. You can stop now. Ria and I are coming for Chanukah! We’ll come in the day before Alex’s winter break starts and stay for the whole two weeks! We still need to clean up some stuff, but we’ll be there.

Don’t drink too much hot chocolate without me!

xoxox, Liza

Sarah grinned. “Liza certainly makes those announcements…  interesting.”

“Ria’s are even better,” Alex said. “Remember when she sent me that really long, dramatic joke letter that, like, said she and Liza had broken up? And talked about all these elaborate reasons why?”

“I remember— I was terrified— and at the end there was a postscript that said just, April Fools, we’re going strong as an elephant.” Sarah said, taking her cellphone back from Alex, who had been casually tossing it up in the air (a dangerous pursuit, especially since he was, well, Alex. Nobody had forgotten what had happened to his first-ever phone. They just didn’t talk about it).

“And it came in November!” Alex groaned, clapping a hand to his forehead. “She couldn’t even wait until the actual first of April!”

Sarah shook her head fondly. “That’s Ria for you.”

They sat quietly for maybe ten minutes, then Alex coughed and said, a little hesitantly, “I have a serious question.”

“Ask away, Al.”

“A friend invited me over for Halloween. Should… should I go?”

Sarah bit her lip. “That’s your serious question?”

“Well… yeah. His family has a party every year, and he says he’s usually bored at it because it’s all his little siblings’ friends and old people trying to wear cool costumes— and  he told our other friend she could come too, but—”

“Alex, sweetie, do you want to?”

A pause. An almost inaudible, “I don’t know.”

He had six Halloweens on which he hadn’t cried.

The rest, through an incredible effort to forget, had been carefully smeared out into tearstained blurs. He waited for the wetness to dry, occasionally pressing his fingers to them to see if they still hurt to touch.

They always did.

“Look, Alex,” Sarah said gently. “If you don’t want to attend that party, I’m sure your friends will more than understand. You can stay here with me and make cupcakes or watch a movie or something.”

Sarah could almost hear the cogs turning in Alex’s brain. He was still a kid (“technically a teenager”, be damned) and on Halloween, kids were supposed to have fun, not hide under blankets and pretend they weren’t sobbing.

Sometimes, she wished she could just go back in time and fix things for him, give him the life he always denied that he wanted.

Even if that meant she wasn’t included in it.

“I want to go,” Alex said. “But— I just—”

He had told her once, right after they’d just met: “Bandaids can’t help a broken heart.” She had thought it had been a quote from a book or something, but no, it was pure Alex, overly melodramatic and yet so, so, honest.

Sarah had often been told by well-meaning moms at parent cocktail parties that he was wise beyond his years.

It was supposed to be a compliment, but she didn’t care for it and she figured Alex wouldn’t either. As such, they both understood: It’s not necessarily a blessing to have been through more.

Alex deserved to let it go.

It wasn’t that simple.

There was so much he deserved but couldn’t have. He was scarred and broken, hid it well behind oversized cups of tea and witty banter, whether or not he actively realized it— But mostly, he was strong.

Far stronger than so many adults she knew.

She loved him for it, all of it, and wanted to tell him so, but found herself instead simply putting an arm around his shoulders, pulling him against her side, and saying.

“Hey, I know how you feel about Halloween. It’s okay. Remember, you can call me if anything happens, alright?”

Alex closed his eyes. Exhaled. Reopened them. “Yeah. Thanks. I… I think I’ll be fine.”