Chapter 4

"So what exactly is the purpose of you bringing me out here?" Daisy asked as we walked together through the town.

"I didn't realize I needed a purpose." I answered her. "Don't you ever hang out with your friends after school or something?"

"What friends?" she asked me with a sarcastic smile. "Nope. My best friends are my computer, my books, Khan Academy, Project Gutenberg and Duolingo."

I chuckled to myself. "You know, my friends call me a stiff for working too hard." I told her, as if that fact in itself was a hilarious joke. "I need to introduce them to you sometime."

"Try it and you die." Daisy said seriously.

"I thought Kurz Gesagt was another good friend of yours." I remarked. "What happened, did you two have a fight?"

Daisy bit her upper lip in thought. "I thought it was cool, but it's so simple. It doesn't bother to go into detail beyond what a sixth grader already knows."

"You're such a nerd." I replied. "Well, besides, I thought it would be cool for us to hang out. Y'know, get some brother-sister bonding time."

"Brother-sister bonding time." Daisy repeated slowly, looking at me weirdly. "You know what? Sure. Why not? I just hope that you're getting something out of this, because I'm not."

"I think I've figured out why you don't have a boyfriend." I muttered.

"Yeah, because I'm not looking for one." she reminded me. "Or maybe it's because I don't walk in on my friends naked. Or, or, here's a thought, maybe it's because I obsess over one girl for a year and call out her name when I'm having meaningless cheap sex with some two-cent hussie I met on campus. Oh no, wait, that's someone else."

"Shut up." I replied bitterly, and Daisy, although rare for her, grinned at me in response. She sure loved to push my buttons sometimes.

"I'm tired." I nonchalantly yawned after about a minute of walking, and sat down on a nearby bench.

"Me too." Daisy replied. "Feel lucky that you didn't have to get up early for church. If God was really all-loving, you think he would show us nighthawks some love and make a commandment to hold mass later in the day."

I chuckled. "Nice." I felt out a fist, which she bumped, even though she was rolling her eyes while doing so. "Well, take comfort in the fact that I spent my Sunday morning in bed, doing nothing."

"That just makes me jealous." she muttered with a humorous smile. "Plus, going to come out and say it now, John Miles Baptists are dumb."

"You've been holding this one in for a while, haven't you?" I asked her.

"They're so backwards." she whined. "They still believe in the devil incarnate, for one thing. I didn't realize we still lived in the 1500s, but that's cool. And hey! If you ever want to make friends quickly and be nice to people, be ready to go to a confessional. If you're a member of their church, you're encouraged to treat people with initial distrust. Like ... what?!"

"You're angry, aren't you?" I asked her, half humorously, half supportively.

"I just hate when a regressive message is brought to the masses and they just eat it up." she complained. "It sure would be great if people would realize that no authority is perfect and learn to judge a moral by its substance, not its medium."

I shook my head in confusion. "Huh?"

She sighed. "Nothing. I'm just annoyed."

"Mm." I replied lazily, rapidly losing interest in the conversation. My eyes travelled over the street until they landed on an ice cream store, and as soon as I saw it, I got a powerful craving. "Hey, do you want ice cream?"

After I finished my sentence, I realized that Daisy was still ranting. She stopped and chuckled. "Sure." she answered. "Anything to shut me up, huh?"

I chuckled myself, albeit nervously. "Sorry."

She shrugged. "I don't care." she told me. "I don't have any money on me, so it's on you."

I sighed. "I guess I'll pay for this one." I conceded. "But only because I'm a gentleman!"

She laughed. "You honestly think you're a gentleman? You?!"

"Oi!" I interjected, a little hurt.

"Read more Jane Austen novels, you bozo." She laughed again as she stood up. "Come on, ice cream ... remember?"

I smiled to myself. So mature yet so not. I stood up and together, we walked up to the ice cream store and stood in line. When we got to the front, a kind-looking guy with a round face smiled at us. "Hi there! What can I get you?" he asked in a slightly Russian accent.

"Hey!" I warmly responded. "Could I please get a single-scoop cone of ... chocolate chip, please?"

"Of course!" he kindly responded as he got a cone and began to fill it. "And for the lady?"

Daisy, standing next to me, shrunk back and grabbed my shirt with both hands, immediately looking down to the floor.

I sighed. Ironically, in her attempts to look immature in one way, to me, she came across as immature in another way. I wish she could get over her desire to look small and helpless. "Sorry," I smiled to the shopkeeper. "She's really shy around strangers." I turned to her and knelt down slightly. "What would you like, Daisy?" I asked her in a sickly sweet voice. To anyone else, I was being a supportive older brother figure. To her, though, I was mocking her and she knew it.

"Rocky road." She mumbled in a squeaky voice.

I got back up and looked at the shopkeeper. "A single-scoop cone of rocky road, please."

He smiled and nodded, and got us our order. After we paid, we sat back down at the same bench and started to enjoy our ice cream.

"One scoop." she complained as she bit into her ice cream. "You cheapo."

"When you pay for your own food you can get whatever you want." I fired back at her. "So why do you have to do the whole shy thing in front of absolutely everyone?"

"People always recognize weird behavior, especially in kids." she began, as if she had already made this speech for when I ask. "In fact, people are looking for it. If I tried to hide the fact that, let's face it, I'm a genius..."

I nodded to recognize the fact.

"Thanks - then eventually I'll slip up and people will start treating me differently. So the shyness is like an extra layer of security. If I ever do anything weird, people can chalk it up to me being shy, not being super smart."

"But why is it bad if people treat you like a genius?" I asked her.

"Expectations." she simply answered. "If my parents found out I could do half the stuff I can, they'd always be pushing me. I like having free time, having people applaud me for being able to graph linear patterns, and being able to read my books in peace without people quizzing me on them. If my parents found out about me, they'd make me go through Dr. Young's gifted program." she shuddered. "I don't even want to think about how hard they work you there."

"Maybe it might help you get your dream job though." I pointed out. "What do you want to be when you're older?"

"I don't know yet." she answered. "Probably something in the sciences. Getting a career in the arts is stupid. Books are for reading, not writing. Plus, people who write stories are usually pretentious as hell. Maybe a psychologist or a neuroscientist or something."

"Brains, huh?" I remarked. "Well, with your skill sets, you could do anything you want."

"I know." she acknowledged. "That's why I want to remain a secret, at least for now. Otherwise, expectations will cripple me."

Daisy may have been smart, but her way of dealing with her problems was definitely that of a twelve-year-old. "Molly wants to go into interpretation, translation, and language analysis." I said aloud.

"I know." she nodded. "Believe it or not, she tells her own family stuff."

"I think that's cute." I continued. "She's adorable when she's all focussed."

"Have you told your family you want to be a teacher?" Daisy asked, ignoring me gushing about Molly.

"Huh? Um, nah." I shifted in my seat.

She chuckled. "Oh right, you get along with your family about as well as Sir Isaac Newton got along with his." She grinned.

I shifted in my seat again, saying nothing, and looked down. She looked over at me and stopped grinning. "Ah, not a thing you like talking about, huh?" she asked awkwardly. "Well, maybe we shouldn't talk about it anymore. Sound good?"

I think that was her way of saying sorry. "Sound good?" she repeated, and I nodded. I didn't have the best weekend myself. If I were anyone other than myself, I think I could have changed that years ago. Hell, if I had any kind of spine, I would have just refused to go to my dad's place yesterday. Luckily, I wasn't planning to be naked around Molly anymore, so it's not like she would see my bruises before they heal.

The two bottles of Smirnoff lasted an ungodly amount of time. It was easy to picture Chris as a lightweight, but not Jerome. Despite Chris moving in on Monday, even on Friday they were still at it, hooting and hollering and watching more old movies drunk off of their asses on the couch.

I wouldn't have even been aware if I didn't get hungry and bored sitting in my room, waiting for the night to pass. The promise I made to Daisy on the weekend was just about the most stupid one I had ever made. Without my usual game of 'Who looks insecure enough to fuck a stranger, ' Friday nights became insufferably boring.

"Hey guys." I lazily waved towards the living room as I made my way to the kitchen.

I had my head in the fridge, looking around as I felt a head lean in next to mine.

I sighed. "Hi, Chris." I mumbled, thrilled with his company.

Chris, in response, started cracking up in really weird-sounding chuckles. I sighed again and pulled some leftovers out of the fridge.

"Aaron..." Chris began, eyeing me as I sat down. "You're usset."

"I'm fine, Chris. Just bored." I answered plainly as I began to eat.

"You ... bored?!" Chris asked me as if that were impossible, slurring every word as he sat down opposite me. "Then ye s-should tot'lly hang out with us then!" With that, his head hit the table.

"You okay, buddy?" I asked him, attempting to lift up his hair.

"Yeah." he mumbled sadly. He had a tendency to be borderline bipolar when he was drunk. "I'm jus' usset."

"What's wrong?" I asked him.

"I'll never tell." he spoke into the table. I waited a few seconds, and sure enough, he continued. "It's juss ... you're a great guy. I don't want you to feel sad n' stuff."

"Chris, I'm not sad. I'm just bored." I told him.

"Not tonight." he clarified. "You's upset annn' I don' like it."

"Chris, really, I'm fine." I insisted. "Now why don't we get you back to Jerome?"

Chris sighed a long, annoyed sigh. "I like Jerome a lot." he told me, emotion overflowing from his voice.

"Then it's a good thing he's waiting for you in the living room." I replied, pushing my food away and getting up so I could help Chris out of his seat. "Come on."

"But like..." Chris paused. "I mean like, a lot. He's soooo sweet and..."

"Yeah, he's a dreamboat." I interrupted, my patience thinning. "C'mon."

Maybe I really can't do more than 140, I thought bitterly to myself as I tried to lift Chris out of his chair. Eventually he complied and with another annoyed moan, got up and immediately collapsed into me, leaving me awkwardly dragging him into the living room to meet Jerome.

Or rather, Jerome's body. His snoring was the first clue that we wouldn't be contacting him anytime soon. He sounded like someone inhaled a lawnmower and was loudly whining about it.

Chris, seemingly relearning how to walk, stood up from my grip and stumbled over to him. "Aw, poor baby." he rubbed his face supportively. "He's ... he's out."

I sighed, wanting this to be over as soon as possible. "Okay then, should we wake him up?"

Chris turned to face me and in a very drunken and over-exaggerated manner, shook his head no. "Once Jer Bear is out there's- there's no wakin' him up. I arready tried it, and every time, is like ... nothing."

"Okay, so what do we do?" I asked. "Do we just carry him upstairs?"

Chris collapsed into his fit of crackling chuckles again. "H-he's super duper heavy n' stuff, sweethear'." he told me with a humorous tone in his voice.

Exasperatedly, I asked, "Then what? Do we need Molly to help us drag his ass upstairs?"

Chris' eyes lit up as the cogs in his head began to turn. "Ooh, Molly!" he grinned. "I wanna visit Molly."

I was instantly eating my words. "Well, hold on." I began. "I think she's studying. Maybe now is not the best time."

"Wha ... why wouldn't it be?" Chris asked me, so sadly that tears may as well have been in his eyes. His eyes reflected sad thought as they remained fixed on the floor for a few seconds of awkward silence, then they bolted back up to mine. "Why doesn't she like me?" he asked me solemnly.

"Molly? She loves you, don't play that card." I told him, my voice beginning to get stern.

"Not who I meant." he slurred in response.

"What?" I asked, now thoroughly confused.

"N'ver mind." he waved me off, sadness instantly gone. He bounced up to me and grabbed me by the hand. "C'mon, let's go visit Molly." he sang as he practically dragged me down the stairs. Within seconds, he was behind Molly, hugging her enthusiastically with a loud "Hey, giiiiiirl!" leaving me with my head buried in my hands at the doorway.

Luckily, Molly was really comfortable around both Chris and myself, so she had no problems adjusting to the sudden increase of humans in her room, even if one was touching her all over. "You have such a beautiful body." Chris enviously pouted.

"Thank you, Chris. That's very sweet of you." Molly sweetly and patiently replied as Chris ran his hands over her shoulders.

"Whatcha up to?" he asked her.

"Just on my computer!" She simply answered.

"Oh, that's all cool." Chris processed what she said. "Aaron, Molly's here!" He grinned in my general direction.

"In her room. Imagine that." I replied humorlessly.

Molly gave me a pitying smile, and supportively started rubbing Chris' arms, which were hugging her from behind. "Hey Chris, are you tired?" she asked him, knowing the answer.

Chris thought about it for a second. "Oh my god." he exclaimed in realization. "I am so tired."

"Maybe you should go to sleep then." she coaxed him. She had mastered a voice which didn't sound dismissive, just full of care. Chris, in response, blinked a couple times as he backed away from her slowly, processing what she had told him. It was clear on his face that he was debating whether he wanted to go to sleep, or if he wanted to revert back to his usual drunk attitude of "I'm going to party forever."

I turned my head back to face Molly and she followed suit, smiling pityingly at me. "Is biology class giving you a hard time?" she asked. I didn't take biology - it was our code word for Chris when he was drunk.

"It would really be nice if I could just ... have tonight to myself." I replied, burying my face in my hands. "I dunno. I don't feel alright."

"It's probably because you're not out with your friends studying." Molly suggested.

I lightly chuckled. "Studying isn't fun, you know." I remarked. "It's not like I miss it."

"Yeah, but it was always at school with people you like." Molly replied. "I'm sure you miss not getting to go out and feel free. You can go stir crazy staying at home for too long." She turned back to face her computer. "Believe me."

"I believe you." I nodded, then turned back to face Chris to see how he was handling himself.

He wasn't. My eyes met what could have easily been a dead body, still flamboyant in his pose as he lay messily on Molly's bed. It looked like he was purposefully trying to take up as much area as possible on her bed as he lay sprawled on her mattress. Molly, noting the silence, looked back, saw Chris, and sighed.

"Excuse me." she lightly told me as she stood up from her chair and slid past. "I should probably move his head. If he's going to throw up in the middle of the night, I don't want it to be on my bed and none of us want him to choke."

"You're joking, right?" I asked her as she delicately grabbed his head and started tilting it. "You're going to move him. You can't be wishy-washy about this. He's taking up your bed. Grow a backbone."

She looked up at my, slightly hurt from my comment. "Sorry, sorry." I defended myself, waving my hands in front of my face. "I just mean..."

"I know what you mean, don't worry." Molly huffed, still clearly slightly upset. "I'm not going to move him though."

"You moved his head, just move it off. The rest of his body will follow suit." I joked.

"I'm not going to do that, Aaron. That's mean." she shot back.

"Fine, I will." I shrugged, then pre-emptively put my index finger in front of her mouth. "He won't mind. Think of the last time Chris held a grudge." I was used to taking the lead role in getting stuff done whenever Molly was around. As I expected, she backed away, shoulders up, as I started prodding Chris in the cheek.

Prodding turned to light tapping, which turned to shaking, which turned to giving up. After about four minutes, I looked back at Molly who had almost an amused look on her face.

"Okay, fine. He wins. Columbus has claimed the bed for Spain. Have fun sleeping in that mess."

Molly slowly looked back at the bed. Not only did he make it impossible for there to be room for two, but the threat of vomiting was still there. "I'll pass." she remarked quietly. "I think I'll take the couch instead." She gracefully walked past me again, sliding past the walls of her cramped room as she closed her laptop, grabbed her phone and walked out the door. "Turn out the light on your way out." She called out behind her.

That was fine and dandy until I remembered why the couch was unavailable. Quickly, I ran out of the room, hitting the lightswitch on the way out. "Hey Molly, I don't think that's gonna work." I called out to her, walking swiftly up the stairs. I passed the kitchen to see her in the living room entrance, staring at Jerome.

"I can see that." she pouted.

"And if we can't move Chris, there's no way in hell we're going to make that lump move." I added.

"That crossed my mind." she quietly responded. We stood in silence until I felt like it had passed the threshold of awkwardness.

"Okay, so what's the plan?" I asked, turning to her.

She was looking down at the floor, upsettedly tapping her hip with her finger. "I dunno." she lamely responded.

"Great plan." I replied, my annoyance with the whole night bleeding through at this point. "Well, here's a novel idea. Neither Jerome nor Chris are going to be using their bed tonight. You could always take it. After all, Chris took yours so it's only fair."

"Um..." she uneasily began.

"What?" I asked pre-emptively. "Afraid of germs?"

Molly giggled. "You're a dork." she said, lightly shoving me.

"I'm a handsome dork." I replied, beaming. Molly said nothing, which in a normal situation would have been fine but given my feelings, her silence chastised me.

After a bit of silence, she piped up again. "I don't want to inconvenience him." she told me.

"Inconvenience him?" I asked incredulously. "He's asleep. That bed will literally be empty tonight. And, point of order, it will be the only bed empty tonight so your options are limited."

"I could always just sleep on the floor." she quietly offered.

"Molly, you're making this so much harder than it needs to be." I complained, raking my fingers over my face.

"Aaron, please." Molly pleaded, her voice getting smaller. "I wouldn't be comfortable inconveniencing him."

I stared at her for a little while. She was inventing a problem in her mind, but that wasn't her fault. She was clearly upset and uncomfortable from all this and there was only one person in the room to help make that better.

"Well, it's a good thing I would be." I concluded. "Take my bed and I'll take his. You're not inconveniencing me because I'll still get a bed, and you don't have to sleep on the floor. Deal?"

"Aaron, no, it's okay." Molly weakly protested.

"Molly, I want you to do it." I practically begged. "It'll inconvenience me if you say no."

She didn't say anything for a little bit. She just stood there, staring at the floor. Finally, she looked back up at me with a small smile. "That's just playing dirty." she finally accused.

I grinned. "Yeah, well, you'd better hurry up before I change my mind." I playfully added. "If you want extra pillows they're in the bottom drawer of the closet."

Molly's small smile turned into a big one, and she moved forward to hug me. "I'm not sure why you're so nice to me sometimes." she told me.

Adrenaline surged through me as I went bold. "Someday I hope you realize just how much you mean to me." I came ridiculously close to ending the sentence with 'sweetheart, ' but I bit my tongue. "For now, believe me when I tell you that you're worth it."

We broke the hug and without another word, Molly slowly made the journey downstairs, ready to survey the unfamiliar territory she would be occupying for the night.

I sighed to myself, both thinking of Molly and how head-over-heels I pathetically was for her, and how much I had to constantly convince her she wasn't the demon she thought she was. I would never stop convincing her she was a good person, but it really took a lot out of me. I took out my phone and checked text messages and other stupid notifications for a bit, then, content with myself, put it back in my pocket and made the trip upstairs. I could just take off my pants and socks then jump in - I'm glad Molly's obsessive-compulsive tendencies got me into brushing my teeth so early.