July 28th, 2017 - Friday Casey’s POV

Casey’s fingers clenched painfully around his phone, knuckles turning white as he reread the message.

Mother: We’re extending our trip for another month. Make sure the automatic pay is working, there’s money in your account.

Mother: I expect no trouble.

The words blurred the angrier he got, but then he stopped. Casey paused and took a deep breath, pushing the negative emotion away and locking it in a mental box to be dealt with later. Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional. It was an old Buddhist saying his grandfather had picked up while in the military, and he first mentioned it to Casey when he was five years old. The young boy had skinned his knees while learning to skateboard. As he cried in the middle of the abandoned parking lot across his house, Mordecai Boyd told him, “Pain is inevitable, princess, but suffering is optional. So, wipe the blood away and try again.”

That was Casey’s mantra, and it wasn’t just applicable for pain. Sadness, anger, it was all temporary. Slowly, his body relaxed, and the emotions fell back below the surface, though Casey could bring it back with ease if he wanted to. His nimble fingers fiddled with the hidden pin clipped to his jacket's lapel, absently tracing the words ‘shit show’ on the yellow enamel. Yeah, that about sums it all up.

Casey went back to drawing, his grip still abnormally tight on the pen. It was calming, and things dulled around the edges, the sounds less sharp and the lights less bright. It was almost pleasant. Casey coasted through the last fifteen minutes of the day and took his time packing his stuff away, though he swore under his breath when he knocked his binder to the floor. The healer dropped to one knee to gather the scattered papers, most of them scratch paper with random doodles on them, and nearly bumped heads with Perseus.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice quiet and surprisingly smooth as he offered Casey a stack of papers. “Have a good weekend, Casey.” Perseus rose fluidly and left the room before the healer could process what had even happened. What the fuck…

“Hey, dude, you ready?” Adam’s voice threw Casey from his confusion, and he quickly stood up to appear unfazed. “What did the new guy want?”

“Uh, he just said to have a good weekend.”

“Weird.” Casey nodded his agreement, but that wasn’t what confused him. It was Perseus’ tone. His words sounded like he knew Casey as if they had a history. Perseus spoke like he actually knew the healer, and Casey did not like that familiarity with the new guy. Something about Perseus ate at him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Casey pushed his thoughts aside and grabbed his bag before following Adam from the room. The two stopped by their locker and deposited their things as they had no plans to spend their weekends doing homework. No, that could be done Monday morning like always.

“So, you are still comin’ home with me, yeah? My mom’s waiting outside.”

“Of course, we’ve never missed a weekend, and I ain’t startin’ now.” Adam beamed at the brunet as they left the school, sun glinting off his platinum hair and giving it the appearance of silver thread. “Any specific plans?”

“Uh, I figured we could play some video games, maybe play ball with Matthew. Same old, same old.” It may be the ‘same old,’ but Casey wouldn’t change it. He had spent every weekend with Adam ever since they were in sixth grade, whether they were going to a family gathering or out of town. It was the two days a week that kept Casey sane. “Hey, there’s my mom, c’mon.” The two slipped through the crowd toward his mom’s red Honda, the striking color standing out amongst the black and white.

Casey slid into the back behind Adam and smiled politely at Marissa Tolliver. She was the opposite of Adam, her skin a deep russet with hair darker than coal. Marissa and Adam got odd looks when they told people they were mother and son, but no one had been brave enough to ask. See, Marissa might not have been his biological parent, but she was his mother in all the ways that mattered.

“Hey, you two, how was school?” Adam immediately launched into a vague retelling of his day while Casey relaxed into the leather, mentally filling in the details. Casey was good with details of all kinds. He had a stellar memory and recall factor, which is why he didn’t put too much effort into his academics. He could remember everything from age four to the present date, no matter how insignificant. His brain would simply not let him forget, and sometimes it was more of a curse than a blessing.

“What about you, Casey?”

“It was depressingly average,” Mrs. M cracked a smile in the rearview mirror, and Adam thankfully took over the conversation as they headed toward The Grove. In this community, the Tolliver family had resided for more than five years. It had a large wrought iron gate that Casey and Adam had scaled numerous times to get to the gas station down the street and a keypad with a code that changed weekly. It was useful for keeping intruders out and wayward teens in. The houses were evenly spaced with large fences to keep prying eyes out and plenty of space for the families to use for cookouts and the like. All in all, The Grove was the embodiment of the American dream.

“We’re having pizza tonight, but tomorrow we’re thinking about going out. Mark landed a big contract this morning, so the family’s going to celebrate. It’s your night to choose.” Marcus Tolliver was an architect, a well-known one at that. The Tolliver clan always went out for a special dinner whenever he started a new project plus every Saturday night to celebrate something. Casey had been to multiple dinners, but each time it was startling to hear any of them so casually include him in family matters. It’s been nearly four years, and I still don’t get it.

“Mr. M should choose since he got the contract and all,” Casey said quietly, pointedly ignoring Mrs. M’s brilliant smile as she pulled into the garage. The healer slung his backpack over his shoulder and followed Adam into the house, toeing off his boots by the door and picking the blond’s jacket off the floor out of habit. Mrs. M ruffled his hair as she placed her keys on the hook and shook her head indulgently.

“No idea where that boy would be without you, Casey.” More like where I’d be without him. Casey moved from the foyer and down to the basement. There were only two rooms upstairs, Mr. M’s office and the master bedroom, so they repurposed the old basement into his bedroom. It had gone from the dream bedroom of a pre-teen to what it was now, Adam’s own fortress of solitude. Posters and custom artwork lined the stone walls, all from Casey’s hand, with shelves filled with knick-knacks from the trips the Tolliver family went on every break. Shells from Myrtle Beach, mini basketballs that Casey won from Dollywood because Adam sucked at basketball, and dozens of pictures.

Opposite the stairs was Adam’s bunk bed, black sheets, and a worn blanket with The Flash symbol. The blond had taken the bottom bunk after breaking his arm and found he preferred it, so now the top was Casey’s unless he slept on the couch. He flopped down onto the couch while Adam changed in the bathroom and brought out his sketchbook as the other boy would soon be engrossed in his video games.

Casey had finished the stream earlier that morning and started in on another landscape setting. This one was a remnant of his childhood. A small creek flowed through his grandpa’s back yard, probably still there despite the years passed, and Casey found himself there every time his parents dumped him in the older man’s care. Trees taller than giants surrounded him almost protectively, and birds sang a particular song above him. He found peace dipping his feet into the cold water and watching the minnows swim.

“Hey, whatcha smiling’ about?” Adam brought Casey from his reverie with his question, and the boy tilted his book toward the blond.

“My grandpa,” he replied with a shrug, trying to brush it off as nothing too big, but it was to Adam. Casey knew he didn’t talk about himself much beyond the necessary things, so to admit he was thinking about something like his childhood was rare for Adam. “There used to be this little creek in his backyard, and I would sit out there for hours, reading or just playin’ in the water. I even caught a frog once.” His grandpa had laughed himself hoarse when little Casey had run onto the porch. There was a frog in the hood of his jacket and a snake egg in his pocket. He had let him keep the frog, but the snake was an emphatic no.

“Okay, Huckleberry Finn, you wanna play or nah?” Casey shook his head, and Adam settled back into the couch with a happy hum. He looked odd in his shorts and tank-top, but Casey knew what it was like to play a part because he did the same thing.

The two sat in companionable silence for nearly a half-hour. The only sound was the effects of Injustice 2 and Adam’s swearing before the blond turned on the music. Casey drew while Adam played, and the week’s stress slowly began to recede until he reached a content state.

“Hey, so what do you think about Perseus?”

“I wonder if that’s his real name.” Adam snorted as he smashed the x-button to counter.

“He seems nice, we share math with Ms. Trent,” he stated casually, “he’s weirdly charming, it’s like he’s got the brain of someone from the ’40s or something when guys called their dates’ doll’. He just talks funny, ya know?” That piqued Casey’s interest enough to pause in his drawing, but his eyes remained on the paper.

“What’d he say?”

“Well, Wes was flirting with two of the cheerleaders before class, you know, being his generally gross self, and Perseus just leans over and says, “he’s real doll dizzy, ain’t he?”, like who says that?” Casey had to admit that it was strange but not enough to mean anything. There were plenty of explanations for using out-of-date slang.

“Anything else?”

“He used dame about Ms. Trent, which was just gross until I Googled it and found that it was for a woman of authority. The best was when he called Wes and his goons a bunch of wet rags Monday, but I don’t think I was meant to hear it.” Casey chuckled and filed this information away for later use.

“It seems like you like ‘im well enough.” Adam’s cheek twitched, his tell for whenever he was unsure of how to answer something. “I don’t have much of an opinion on him yet.

“Yeah, too soon to tell.” Whatever Adam was unsure of, Casey wanted to know, but he wouldn’t pry. He doesn’t push me on specific topics, so I’ll follow his lead.

They resumed their own activities until the overhead door opens, and Mrs. M yelled down. “Boys, dinner’s here!” Warmth unfurled in Casey’s tummy each time they called him by male pronouns, and it always made him wish his parents- No, don’t think about them. This is your time; just enjoy it.

“C’mon, dude, before dad takes all the white chicken.” They knew Mr. M wouldn’t. It was Casey’s favorite after all, but he shut his sketchbook and jogged up to the ground floor behind Adam nonetheless. Pizza night was always a relaxing affair. Pizza boxes and two liters sat out on the island. The brunet could hear the opening credits to some movie coming from the living room where they would gather once the food was acquired. No one actually watched the film; it was more for background noise when there was a lull in the conversation.

“Here you go, Casey, the drink’s on the counter.” The healer smiled at Mrs. S as he let Adam drag him to the living room. The Tolliver family had a smile reserved for him that came with being the few people he genuinely saw as family, not that he would ever admit that out loud. The two boys took their places on the couch, which gave Casey a clear view through the doorway. It was always hard for him not to admire a happy relationship before his eyes.

It wasn’t a conventional relationship by any means. Mr. M had married Sue Garnett when they were only eighteen and had been together for nearly twenty years. It had been rocky for some time before they met Marissa Ozera. They had lived in a tiny apartment that barely deserved the title, and Marissa was their friendly neighbor. She brought over baked goods and remembered birthdays. Casey wasn’t exactly sure how it had progressed to a full-blown relationship. Still, even the biggest pessimist could see they were perfect for one another. No matter how it started.

Casey knew that Matthew came first when they were only twenty years old, still babies themselves in their parents’ eyes. Matthew was technically Adam’s half brother, but they were raised as a family, no matter the semantics. Mrs. S was Matthew’s mother, just as Mrs. M was Adam’s. The throuple, as Adam liked to call them, were more comfortable together than any other couple Casey had ever seen. They moved fluidly around one another, grabbing plates and drinks and stealing kisses that made their youngest son grimace like any child. That air of domesticity was the one thing that made Casey yearn for the soulmate he would never get to meet. He wished for the moments he would never get to have because of that darkened mark on his wrist, but only when alone.

“So, boys, how was your first week back?”

“Pretty good so far, miss sleepin’ in till noon, though.” Adam’s parents chuckled as they settled onto the L-shaped couch.

“What about your teachers? Anyone we need to look out for?” Casey hadn’t paid too much attention to the two teachers that weren’t Hales, so he didn’t have an opinion.

“Nah, they seem fine so far. I really like Mrs. Hale, though; she seems pretty cool. She’s our English teacher, and her brother teaches the other math class, Casey has him in the morning.” Three pairs of eyes turned to him, and he nodded once, swallowing down the bite of pizza.

“They’re interesting,” the family looked at him expectantly, so he continued, “I mean, they don’t act like they’re all-knowing, which is a nice change of pace.”

“You said their name’s Hale?” Casey looked at Mr. M and nodded. “She a real tall woman, kind of imposing?”

“Oh yeah, she’s probably killed a man. Or a mammal,” Adam commented between slices.

“Remember that big contract I got in June for the old Sanderson farm? Well, the one to commission me was Rebecca Hale,” Mr. M explained. “She was real polite and understanding when we had that construction crew stage a walkout. The house she wanted is insanely big if it’s just her and her brother.”

“How big?” Casey inquired curiously; his drink paused inches from his lips. He wouldn’t pass up an opportunity for information.

“Two floors plus a basement, but the floors are the same lengths as the football field if I had to guess. There were about twenty rooms, so plenty of space for a family and then some.” The conversation turned fully to discussing the Hale family’s theories and why they might need a house so large. While the opinions became more outlandish, the more dinner progressed, Casey found himself relaxing and surrounded by a happy family. He always settled around them, felt safe, but it got quicker each weekend he stayed. I’m more comfortable here than I am in my own home.

It was a depressing thought that he most likely would never say aloud, but that didn’t make it any less right. Casey loved the Tolliver household. It was warm and had this feeling to it, and he wanted the same thing. The healer knew it was best not to dwell on the things he couldn’t have, but Casey couldn’t help wanting nonetheless.

Adam’s POV

As Adam started in on his fourth slice, he eyed his best friend. It was clear that Casey was comfortable at his house, which made him smile because of how long it took them to get this far. When they started hanging out, just a few hours every so often rather than weekend sleepovers, Casey was as skittish as a deer. He was even uncomfortable speaking with his parents. Still, the brunet was polite in a way he generally wasn’t with other adults. The older boy was tense, but then he slowly got more comfortable until Casey started to relax.

Adam knew that his friend didn’t have the best home life, not that Casey had ever said anything to give that impression, so it was good to see the boy so at ease. While at school, he always watched people, was constantly on alert. The blond sipped his drink and opened his mouth to add to the crazy ideas, but the front door opening paused the conversation. Keys clanked in the bowl, and then his brother, Matthew, stepped into view.

They were polar opposites in every way, but that didn’t matter much to Adam. He was pasty and dark-haired while Matt had the same caramel complexion of their mom, Marissa, and their dad's chestnut hair. Matt was an all-star athlete, while Adam was all about academics, not that his brother was unintelligent. They did share some traits. They shared their father’s eyes, the strong-headedness of their mother, Sue, and the same desire to do what was right. The two boys were fierce protectors of the underdogs, and for Adam, that included Casey. That boy was the definition of an underdog if he had ever seen one.

“Hello, o’ family of mine, how’s it hangin’?” Matt’s loud voice was easily overheard over the conversation, and the others answered with a chorus of greetings. “What are we talkin’ about?”

“The Hale family, apparently dad built a big ass house for them.” Matt settled into the armchair, one leg slung over the arm until mom reached over to slap his knee, but he only grinned.

“We got two of ‘em at the high school, Ms. Hale, the librarian and, uh, Mr. Hale who teaches Drama. They’re both pretty young, a lot more people in the library this year if ya know what I mean.”

“Are they siblings?” Matt’s brows furrowed, and he shrugged.

“I saw ‘em kiss, so I’m gonna say no, but I could be wrong.” Adam rolled his eyes at the implication and glanced over at Casey. “They’re not the only new additions, though.” That got the brunet interested.

“New kids?”

“Yep, her name’s Carina Schuyler.” There was that name. “She seems cool enough, schooled a few of the guys during five-on-five. Couch D tried to recruit her for the girl’s team, but she was adamant about not playing.”

“Anything else about her?” Casey’s tone was relaxed, but Adam could read beneath that.

“Uh, I think she wears colored contacts,” Matt put forth, his eyes glued to the smaller male.

“Red and grey?”

“Nah, kinda copper-ish, why?”

“We got our own new kid, and he has these silvery-red eyes. Contacts most likely,” Casey explained, trying to feign indifference to the subject. “Plus, he has a weird name. Perseus Schuyler. I’m betting it’s not his real name, though. I’d put money on it.” Something about the new kid drove Casey crazy, and he gave Adam an exciting feeling. Some part of him thought they’d be good together.

Adam had known Casey Boyd for nearly five years and had been best friends since, so he liked to think that he knew the other boy. The brunet was quiet and secretive wit a sharp tongue, but he had a good heart beneath his rough exterior. They were both Darkened, so they had the “opportunity” to choose who they spent the rest of the short lives with, and maybe Perseus was too. Not that he would wish this fate on anyone else.

Being Darkened meant pitying eyes and old grandmas telling you it was God’s plan or whatever, yeah, total bullshit, in his opinion. Part of what made Adam believe Casey and Perseus would do good together was their opposite personalities. The new kid seemed happy and light-hearted, something Adam’s best friend desperately needed with his pessimistic mindset. There was something else, too, a vibe. His vibes weren’t like Casey’s, though. Adam got them about people’s personalities, whether they’re good or bad in the simplest terms.

Ever since he had known the boy, he would get these vibes. Casey had these feelings about people and situations that always turned out to be right when danger was involved. The boy had told him it was how he knew Adam was in trouble the first time they met. Casey didn’t talk too much about his gift, then again, Casey didn’t talk too much about anything.

Dinner ends, and the three boys clean up the kitchen, though Matthew only supervised leaning against the counter. “So boyos, some of the others are playing football later. You in?” Adam looked to Casey, who gave a short nod in reply and smirked at Matt.

“As long as Wes isn’t there, then yeah.” They had once talked about the pros and cons of The Grove, and Wes Anderson was definitely a con. Thankfully, he didn’t hang around the other neighborhood kids too much, so the two rarely ran into him.

They finished up dishes and the like before following Matt out of the house, Adam yelling they’d be back on the way out the door. The sun was starting to set as the trio made their way down the street toward the field they used for football. It was a well-kept area of grass that the residents used for cookouts or parties. Still, most nights, the neighborhood kids could be found there messing around, or the older teens who smoked in the old treehouse.

“So, how’s school actually going?”

“Still a genius,” Adam said with a smirk.

“Still average.” It was a joke between them, one that Casey had started nearly a year ago. Even if Adam didn’t see him as average in any way.

“Is there somethin’ special about that new kid, Perseus?” Matt inquired, hands jammed into the pockets of his faded blue jeans.

“Not particularly,” Casey said, as Adam stated, “Oh yeah, definitely.” The older boy glanced between them and then chuckled.

“Which is it?”

“He’s weird, but ain’t nothin’ other than that.” Casey ran his fingers over his shaved head, and Adam found his gaze attracted to his ring. Man, he never takes that stupid thing off. I wonder what’s so important about it.

They reached the field before Adam though to ask, so he kept quiet as he took in the other three teens already huddled in the middle of the area. The oldest at seventeen was Mickey Donovan, who didn’t actually live at The Grove, but you wouldn’t know with how much time he spent at his girlfriend’s place.

Speaking of girlfriend, Jasmine stood to Mickey’s left with one arm wrapped around his midsection. The two were complete opposites appearance-wise; Mickey was a pasty redhead while Jas was a “dark skin goddess”, her words not Adam’s. That difference was the butt of many jokes, but the couple didn’t care much anymore. On Mickey’s right, was Winston. No last name, just Winston or Winn if you were Casey.

The brunet had been apprehensive of Winston at first, had told Adam he’d had a vibe about the younger boy, but then he relaxed. Casey still watched Winston closely, but not like before. And Winston did the same.

“Hey, Casey!” He might be two years younger than them, but he could keep up with them at their worst. “How’s it goin’?”

“Fine until I saw you, kid.” Winston rolled his eyes and tossed the ball to Casey as they approached.

“Hey, Case,” Jasmine greeted softly, a beautiful smile on her lips, “Adam, Matthew.” The blond winced at her tone. Jasmine and Matt had a rocky relationship at best and an even rockier history. They had dated their freshman year when Matt was the star quarterback, and Jasmine was a cheerleader, but it wasn’t perfect by a long shot. In the end, his older brother had broken up with Jasmine over text, which left Mickey to pick up the pieces of his soulmate’s broken heart. Jasmine never forgave him, and they all knew better than to speak about it.

Mickey looked between Matt and his girl and then to Adam before shaking his head. “Let’s, uh, play.” He turned on some music since they were far enough from the nearest house and tossed his phone into the grass by a Bluetooth speaker. “Go long, Matt.” And so the game began.

Tossing a football was one of the few athletic things that Adam enjoyed, and spending time with his friends made it even better. Casey was small and quick, quickly zipping between Matt and Mickey’s larger frames to catch passes from Jasmine. Things were winding down when Mickey suddenly slammed into the brunet. The football landed well behind them as the four crowded around him, Adam kneeling by his head to see a bruise already forming on his cheek. Shit.

“Dude, you’re already bruising,” Adam hissed as his fingers prodded Casey’s cheek until the older boy batted his hand away.

“It’s fine, it’ll be gone in a couple of days, you know that.” Ah, yes, his weird healing. Casey rolled to his feet and stood up slowly, eyes a bit dazed, but he didn’t look any worse for wear. “But next time you jam your shoulder into my face, Mick, I’ll break your nose.” The redhead smiled sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, dude, I was aiming for Matt.” No one dared to comment on that. His music paused abruptly, and Dierks Bentley’s “5-1-5-0” began playing. “Shit, that’s my dad.” Mickey bent low to scoop up his phone and pressed it to his ear as he walked a few feet away from the others. Adam returned his focus to Casey, who was getting looked over by Jasmine, a future nurse already in special classes for her senior year. One hand gripped the brunet’s chin while the other gently probed the rapidly forming bruise.

“You should be fine, Case, but try not to aggravate it,” Jasmine advised in her Nurse Voice™. “I think Mick and I will be leaving.” At that moment, said redhead called Jasmine.

“Hey, my dad got called in and JJ’s home alone, so I gotta get back,” he spoke in a rush, pressing a quick kiss to his soulmate’s lips, “I’ll call you later unless you want to come with,” Jasmine smirked and grabbed Mickey’s hand.

“Let’s go, baby.” Adam watched the two leave for Jasmine’s house and then turned back to his best friend, who was speaking quietly to Winston.

“I gotta get goin’ as well, my mom wants me in before dark, annyeong, Case.” Winston waved as he jogged backward and then disappeared from view.

“And then there were three,” Matt said as he glanced up at the setting sun above them. “Y’all wanna go to the treehouse?” Adam had a curfew at nine-thirty, so he nodded. He kept his eye on Casey as they ambled through the trees until they reached the old treehouse. It was built long before any of them were born and would probably be there long after. Matt flopped down onto the soft grass and then onto his back while Adam leaned back against the tree's base.

“You smokin’, Cas?” In reply, the brunet pulled a familiar white MP3 from the front pocket of his jeans. “Are you ever gonna try something a bit more mellow?” Adam watched as his brother pulled his own metal cigarette case from the waistband of his pants. Matt had been smoking weed since he was a freshman, and it was no secret to anyone in the Tolliver family. Their parents didn’t mind as long as he stayed safe, but they had warned against him pressuring Adam into trying. Casey was fair game, though.

“I’m good, I’ll stick to my cancer sticks.” With that, he lit one of the cigarettes and settled down onto the grass by Matt. Adam didn’t smoke, had no desire to try, but found the combined scents reminded him of summer nights and weekends with his best friend. His second brother, his mind supplied.

“Do you ever think about quitting?” Adam asked, only to get two quick ‘nopes’ in reply. “Why not?”

“Why quit what works?” Casey countered. The blond had figured that smoking with a stress reliever for both of them, so he kept quiet. Maybe someone will be able to make them both quit someday. Hell, maybe someone will be able to help his best friend.