Who: Phobia Fenn & April 14th What: Drunkness When: February 13, 2018, party time! [midparty] Where: April’s
Phobia was starting to get itchy to go. There was a lot of socializing around him and it was a lot. He had used up all his extrovert points for the day. Maybe the week but he couldn’t go yet. He made a quick trip around the house until he found April. He walked up to her, nodding hello.
“See? Told you would see me here,” Phobia said. He kept his word. He would do that much at least.
Seeing Phobia, April nearly squealed in delight and gave him a quick hug in greeting. “Hi! I’m so glad you’re here. Are you having fun? Is this a good party? It feels like a good party!” Granted, April hadn’t really talked to many people and felt kind of left out most of the evening, but everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves so that was good enough, right?
Phobia stiffened at the hug and tried to return the hug. He was meeting his quota of hugs rather quickly. He nodded to her questions and said, “It’s a great party. Everyone looks like they are having fun,” he looked around then back at her, “Are you having fun?” Wasn’t that the important part?
April hesitated before nodding. “Yeah, it’s fun to see everyone having a good time.” She looked back to him, noticing after a moment that he hadn’t said whether or not he was having fun. “You don’t like this, do you?”
He was glad to hear that she was enjoying herself. That was the point, wasn’t it? If the host didn’t enjoy the party, why party at all? Her question gave him pause however and he thought about shrugging it off but then said, “No, not really. I don’t… social well.” He didn’t like social events. Had he ever? He didn’t know but this was overwhelming. If he had to be with others, he preferred it on an one-on-one sort of basis.
April frowned a bit, glancing around before looking back to him. “If you’re not having fun or don’t like this, you don’t have to stay. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” She didn’t really want him to go, she wanted to have someone to talk to and keep company with, but she would feel like she was torturing him. And that was not what April wanted to do.
“You wanted me to come so I came,” Phobia said. He wished he hadn’t pulled his earbuds out or he could play with something. His phone was in his hoodie pocket, the earbuds wrapped around it. His hands were already in his sleeves, “I thought I should say hi before I left. So you knew I came.”
April nodded and tried to hide the disappointment on her face when he said he was leaving But she understood. “Thank you for coming. It means a lot. I’m sorry you didn’t enjoy yourself.”
Phobia felt bad. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy himself. It was more that he didn’t enjoy other people. If there could be parties without people, well, it wouldn’t be a party, would it? However, he was reminded then of what he did have in his front hoodie pocket. He pulled out a bag of small chocolate covered marshmallow hearts and held them out to April.
“I brought these for you,” he said, “I am hoping they didn’t melt much.”
April looked to the candy and then hesitantly took them with wide eyes. “For me? Really? But why?”
Phobia shrugged and said, “Because of the party and it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow so…” he trailed off. He had no reason other than she was being nice to him and he was trying to be nice back. Especially since that winged girl called him out on not being happy. Since when did so many people care?
April looked at the candy and then back to him with a smile. “Thank you, that’s very nice of you. I love candy, but you already knew that. I didn’t know tomorrow was Valentine's Day! There’s two holidays in one week?” She hesitated for a moment before giving him another hug. Because a gift of candy? That was huge, for April, and deserving of hugs, even if he didn’t like them that much.
“Valentine’s Day is every February 14th. This ‘holiday’ moves around,” Phobia tried to explain. It was hard to explain when he didn’t really get it himself. He shouldn’t have been surprised by the hug but he was. He patted her back quickly and said, “It’s really not a big deal.”
April shook her head. “It is a big deal.” Candy was a serious, big deal, even if some people thought it was stupid that she felt that way. Actually, gifts of any kind were a big deal. It meant you thought about the person, you liked them and wanted to make them feel happy with a gift. That was a big deal. “Thank you, again.”
Phobia shrugged. A part of him wanted to keep bringing her candy. If it made her that happy, why not? But that happy usually meant hugs. Maybe next time he would make a deal that she can have the candy in exchange for no hugs. Or maybe not.
“It’s okay,” Phobia said quickly.
April bit her lip a little and smiled. “I don’t think I used to get a whole lot of gifts either, so it’s just special to get something. And even more special when it’s candy!” Okay, she was getting weird now and she knew it, which was unusual because April was generally oblivious to herself and her actions. “Do you still want to go get our IDs tomorrow?”
Phobia didn’t think it was that weird. Then again, how weird was he most days? He shrugged and then frowned slightly at her next question. Did he want to get his ID? No. Did he have a choice? No. Better than bringing a guard to his door.
“Yeah,” Phobia said, “After noon? Give you time to sleep off the party?”
April shrugged a little but then nodded with a smile. She didn’t really know what ‘sleep off the party’ meant, but if he wanted to go in the afternoon, it was fine with April. “Okay, that sounds good.”
“Text me when you are awake or something,” Phobia said, sliding his hands back into his pockets. He hesitated, feeling a bit bad for wanting to run away but also wishing it was a little less people-ly here.
“Okay, I will.” She really didn’t want him to go either. Glancing around at the rest of the party, April hesitated before looking back to Phobia with a little smile. “We can go hang out outside if you want. For a little bit, before you go. Or if you just want to leave, that’s okay too, just… thought it might be better outside?”
Phobia shook his head and said, “I shouldn’t drag you away from your party. It’s your thing. I… I can linger a bit longer,” he thought for a moment, “I’m going to get a drink. Do you want something?”
April tried not to smile so big when he agreed to stay a little longer. “Sure! I don’t know what to drink though.” She planned on following him anyway, so, they could see what the options were. It seemed like a few people had brought drinks.
Phobia brought them to the kitchen and he looked at the selection. He grabbed a couple of cups and eyeballed the alcohol. Was that a good idea? The last time he drank was Christmas and it made him pretty mellow. It made him tolerable. Maybe he ought to try it again. He poured probably too much into his cup then looked at April, “You want some of this?”
April watched him curiously, leaning against the kitchen counter. Phobia seemed to know what he was doing, or at least he wasn’t afraid to try something new. At his question, she shrugged. “I’ll try it. What does it taste like?”
Phobia poured juice into both their cups, adding a lot more juice to hers than his. He handed her the cup, with a splash of alcohol in hers. He took a long drink. Let’s see how this stuff worked. He looked back to April, “Probably a bit like alcohol but I made yours heavy on juice so maybe you won’t taste it much.” April took the cup and sniffed it before taking a sip. It tasted like juice, but with something in it. Luckily the sometimes wasn’t too too bad, so she focused on the flavor of the juice instead. “Do you like alcohol?”
Phobia shrugged and said, “I don’t drink it often. I just thought maybe it would be fun. People drink at parties. It’s a social norm.” He took another drink from his cup and it made him a happier person. General consensus seemed to say that he ought to be happier.
April took another sip and made a little face. It didn’t taste like regular juice, no matter how hard she pretended. But if this is what people did at parties, she should probably do it too, right? “Oh. Okay!”
“If you don’t like it, don’t drink it,” Phobia said, “Not everyone likes the taste and that’s fine.” He didn’t mind it. He wasn’t also going to get her to drink if she didn’t want to. That wasn’t right either.
Apri shrugged. “I want to try it. If it’s something lots of people do, I want to see what it’s like. I just don’t like when things taste like medicine. That scares me. I don’t know why, but I don’t like it. But this doesn’t taste like medicine, so that’s good.” If it did, there was no way she’d even be holding the cup, let alone giving the whole drink a try.
“A lot of people do stupid things too,” Phobia pointed out. He drained his cup. He probably drank that way too fast. Or it meant that he needed another. He fixed himself another one, glancing to April to see if she wanted more.
“Yours is mostly juice so it shouldn’t taste like medicine,” Phobia said. Or at least he hoped.
Deciding she needed to catch up, April chugged the rest of her drink, making a face once more as she swallowed the last bit of it. Handing over her empty cup, she smiled. “No, it didn’t taste like medicine, I don’t think. If you drink fast, its hard to taste.”
“Don’t drink it too fast, it will knock you on your ass,” Phobia said with a small smile. He refilled her cup and took a drink of his own. “Should we hang out here with the juice and alcohol then?” Or perhaps they should find somewhere else to go? The kitchen wasn’t a quiet place either.
April giggled and took the refilled glass, taking a more careful sip this time. “Okay. Oh, I know where we can go!” She grabbed the bottle he was pouring from, and the juice, and her candy! and then led him back through the party and to her bedroom at the back of the house. “We can hang out in here. Less people, so it’s better, right?”
Phobia followed April through the party, glaring at the girl with wings, and to the back of the house. Her bedroom. Should he be hesitant about that? Drinking, party and bedrooms. It seemed like an open invite but Phobia took another drink and figured it wasn’t an invitation for anything except somewhere quiet.
“Much better,” Phobia agreed, “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be out there? With the people? And dancing? And that music?” That he didn’t much care for but didn’t want to say.
April shook her head, setting the things down on her dresser. “Nope, I would rather hang out with you. I don’t know a lot of those people, and the ones I do know are busy talking to their other friends so I don’t want to be in the way.” April’s room was a lot like April herself. Bright and colorful with lots of sparkly things, it was filled with a combination of stuffed animals and coloring books, along with makeup and nail polish and a few bits of cheap jewelry. She had a small closet of clothes, ranging in sizes from toddler to adult but only a few pairs of shoes in one size, and one coat. That’s what happens when you spend all of your money on candy and pretty things. There’s not much money for other things. Sitting down on the bed, she motioned for him to sit with her as she took another careful sip from her cup.
Phobia wanted to ask why she would rather hang out with him. She was clearly a social creature and he was the opposite of that. He sat next to her on the bed, looking down at his cup. He looked up at her and said, “It’s your party. I doubt you could be in the way.” He took another drink and looked around her room. He didn’t think about how it would sound and said, “This room looks like you.”
April took another drink and looked around the room as well. “Sometimes I feel like I’m in the way. Like when I am out and I get lost. Or I get confused and want to ask someone a question. There’s not a lot of room for that sometimes, then I am in the way.” She only felt a little like that at the party, so it wasn’t so bad.. “Is it good that it looks like me?”
“You’re not in the way if you have a question. Or if you are lost and need help,” Phobia said, “Fuck. This island… we were told we were going to get help, that this would be a safe place and it’s… not. You should feel like you can approach people. Or whatever. Especially at your own party.” He threw back the rest of his drink and laid back on the bed. He closed his eyes. Okay. He drank too fast. Oops.
“Hm-mmm,” Phobia said, “It’s not a bad thing.”
April was tempted to drink the rest of her drink fast too, if for no other reason than to keep up with him. But she didn’t, and instead just watched Phobia curiously. “Is that what they told you? Is they what they told other people about here? They just told me they couldn’t use me anymore so I had to come here ‘cause there was nowhere else to put me.” It hadn’t made sense to April at the time, and it still didn’t, but she didn’t like to think about that very scary and confusing time in her life.
Phobia sat up and looked at her, “That’s what they told you? That they couldn’t use you anymore? Like you were some sort of object?” He fucking hated this island. He should have realised. The experiments. He should have realised but he didn’t think they would be so cruel. He should have known better. He shook his head, flinging an ant across the room. Crap. Stupid Remy and his fears. Better than than spiders, he supposed.
April shrugged a little and moved off the bed to sit on the floor. After a little chase on the carpet, she capture the ant and held it in the palm of her hand, watching it roam around on her skin. “I guess. Isn’t that what I am? From the file and things, I think it’s true. People used me for things.” The words were sad, but April’s tone was so matter-of-fact that it was clear she didn’t really understand how sad it really was.
Phobia watched her play with the ant. He slid off the bed and sat next to her. He opened his hand and let a second ant crawl over to her.
“That isn’t what you are,” Phobia said firmly, “You are April 14th and you are a person and you are deserving of basic human rights. You deserve better than this island. You deserved better than what you have gotten. Fuck. We all do.”
April smiled at the second ant, trying to get it to crawl up and play with the other, but it had a mind of it’s own and went venturing across the carpet getting lost in the fibers. She listened to what Phobia said, but kept her eyes on the bug in her hand, examining it closely. She thought of about three different good arguments in her head, but in true April fashion, she tried to look on the bright side. Okay, maybe this time the bright side was still pretty dark. But it was true. “At least I’m not dead. That’s… what they thought. That’s what the papers say.”
“No,” Phobia said softly, “At least you aren’t dead.” He stood up, careful of the rogue ant, and refilled his cup, this time more juice than other. He offered the juice to April, if she wanted more. Then he sat down again next to her. “As long as we aren’t dead, we still have hope. We still have a promise of the future, of something more. We still have time.”
April shook her head no, taking another drink from her cup which was still half full. “What something more do you want? What do you want in the future?” Carefully, she set down the ant in her hand, hoping he would wander off and find his friend. Or at least not get stepped on. She turned to face Phobia, tucking her legs beneath her. “I bet you’d be a famous writer. You could write about the things here, and how they get better.”
“I want off this island,” Phobia said. He shifted so he could lean against the bed. What else did he want in the future? He didn’t really know. He didn’t look that far. He took a sip of his drink and said, “After that… I can’t really imagine life after here. We will probably all go our separate ways.” And lose touch with each other. Or not want to talk to people from here because it reminds us of a terrible time.
April frowned slowly as he spoke. She hadn’t really considered what people would actually do if they got to leave. But one thing suddenly struck her. She didn’t have anywhere to go, or anyone to go to. She knew that for a fact now. Before she was hopefully that maybe there was something out there for her. But now… well, that was enough for her to chug the rest of her drink and turn away with a little pout. “Maybe I’ll just end up staying here.”
“You want to stay here?” Phobia asked. As much as he had nowhere to go, he didn’t want to stay here. He wondered if his father kept their house. Maybe he sold it and moved to whatever country he wanted to studied next. Maybe he didn’t have a home anymore off this island. That thought made him drink more.
Leaning around him, April grabbed the juice and the bottle of alcohol, refilling her cup and then offering to do the same for his. “I don’t want to, not if everyone else leaves. But if everyone leaves and goes off to do their own thing then… well at least here I have a place to live.” The real outside world seemed scary, and April knew she was not equipped for that.
Phobia nodded, letting her refill his cup. He was silent for a moment and said, “I’m in the same boat, if that helps. I don’t… I don’t have anyone out there. I don’t have anywhere to go if we do get off this island. I also know this place is toxic. There is no winning.”
Putting the bottles between them on the floor, April looked into her cup with a frown. Was there really no winning? Was there really no hope? She didn’t know what toxic meant, but it sounded bad, and she already knew this place wasn’t exactly good. “So… what do we do then?”
“We keep fighting,” Phobia said, “There has to be a better. Something on the other side. People like you or your friends deserve a chance at that better, even if it’s hard at first. You deserve a happily ever after,” he smiled softly, “Or to dance again.”
April smiled softly and looked down again for a moment before meeting his gaze. “You deserve that too, you know. A chance at better, a happily ever after, so you can be a big famous writer.” She was about to go quiet but then raised a finger to interrupt before he could say anything. “You do deserve it. I believe that.”
He wasn’t entirely sure if he did but he appreciated the thought. He returned her smile, small and brief and said, “Thank you. Maybe we’ll both get that chance.” Maybe if they were lucky, she’ll find true happiness here. He could be hopeful for her.
April nodded and leaned back against the bed, drinking from her cup again. “I don’t know how I would fight though. I can’t even keep track of two ants.” Which were now officially among the missing. April couldn’t be sure that she didn’t just drink one of them.
Phobia looked around. He had no idea where the ants were either. He took another drink and said, “Just be you. Having hope seems to be a great way to keep the fight going. Believing in the better, etc.” Things he couldn’t do but he probably really should learn.
April smiled a little and looked to him. “Why are you so nice to me? I mean, other people are nice. But not like that. They’re just nice because they think I’m dumb, or a little kid, or lost or things like that. But you know me, and you’re still nice.”
Phobia looked to April and said, “I’m not nice. As that winged girl out there. I snapped at her earlier. Then again she called me unhappy and who the hell is she to tell me what I am or not,” he paused. That wasn’t what she was asking. He took a drink and said, “No. I don’t think I’m nice. I’m just… me.”
“That isn’t what I asked, silly. I asked why are you so nice to me? You say all the time that you’re not nice, and I never agree with you. And who cares with someone else says? Either way, you are nice, to me, even if that is just you. I like just you.” April took another few long drinks from her cup until it was empty and then put it aside, she didn’t need more of that. She was already feeling a little dizzy and loopy.
“I don’t think I’m nice,” Phobia said, “I don’t think I’m mean to you. Not anymore but I don’t think I’m nice. Nice people… I don’t know. Do things that aren’t me,” he looked to her and shrugged, “I don’t know. I like you. So maybe that’s enough.”
April smiled, stretching out and relaxing as she watched him curiously. “Why do you like me? I’m not very smart, and even though I don’t mean to be, I know I am annoying to some people. And I already know you don’t like that I am cheery all the time. So why do you like me? I’m glad that you do, I just don’t understand it.”
Phobia made a face and said, “I don’t know. Because you are hope. Remind me that I can be hopeful. Or I should be. Or something. Because you haven’t run away from me and you probably really should. I’m not questioning it.”
April listened and then shrugged, looking up at the ceiling. “Why would I run away from you? People run away from scary things, and I’ve seen way scarier things that you. Is that rude? It’s not supposed to be.”
“I am scary things,” Phobia protested. He concentrated for a moment and let another ant crawl down his hand and he showed it to April, “See? People are afraid of these things.”
“No. Just because you can make scary things, doesn’t mean you are scary.” With a grin, she carefully tried to coax the ant into her hand. “I’m not afraid of ants. I’m not afraid of you.” It wasn’t clear if she was talking to him or to the bug. “That’s like saying that when I am little I am a kid. But I’m not a kid, I just look like one sometimes. It’s the same with you. Who you are is different from what you can do. The doing-scary-things happened after you became you.”
Phobia was silent for a moment, thinking about this. Was she right? He had too much liquor to really think this through but he knew he would think of it the next day. Being a scary thing didn’t mean he was scary? He had changed a lot after he got his abilities. Was she right?
“I need to think on that,” Phobia said, “and I think I’m a bit too drunk to debate me.”
April decided to pour herself another drink, not really paying any attention to the alcohol to juice ratio anymore. “Is this what drunk is? It feels light and funny.” She took a sip from her cup and made a face. “But this tastes gross.”
Phobia reached over and took her cup. He laughed as he took a sip, “That’s because this is mostly alcohol and no juice. Here,” he handed her his empty cup, “Try more juice than the other.” He smiled and nodded, “Drunk feels… easier. Wait. No. Don’t listen to that. I don’t want you drinking more.”
April traded cups, smiling at the sound of his laugh. “Drunk makes you laugh, I like your laugh. Why do you not want me drinking more?” She poured the liquids in her new cup, being more careful this time and putting in more juice than alcohol.
“Drunk apparently makes me cuddle. Or at least it did on Christmas,” Phobia said. He hadn’t meant to mention that. Oh well. He took a drink and said, “Because drunk isn’t real. It’s an escape from reality and we can’t live in an escape. We can only live in what we have.”
April smiled brighter. “Drunk cuddles at Christmas sounds nice.” She was tempted to ask if they could do cuddles now, but she had a feeling the answer would be no. “I guess that makes sense…”
Phobia made a face and said, “Maybe.” They had been. It had been nice to reach to another without overthought because he couldn’t do that on a daily basis. He couldn’t let go. Even now it lingered, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He drained his cup and said, “I should stop drinking too. I don’t want to pass out and be incredibly irritable when we go to the Facility tomorrow.”
April drank more from her cup and then just laughed, snorting a little in the process. “I think you might be irritable anyway. You don’t like that place. And I can tell you don’t want to go.”
“Shit, we should have brought water up,” Phobia said, “You have not yet had a hangover and they suck,” he shook his head, “No. I don’t like that place. I really want to say no but what good would that do? Get thrown in detention? Then what? I can’t do anything in there.” He would have to accept his ID and try to keep the fight going some other way. Or burn that one too. “We can go get water.” April drained the rest of drink from her cup and then pushed herself up to stand, falling over in the process in a fit of giggles. “Or not? And no!! No detention for you or me or anyone. That sounds bad.”
Phobia watched her fall, pushing himself up to a sitting position and laughed as she giggled, “I should ask if you are okay. I think we should just stay here.” He supposed they could text someone to bring them water but eh. It could wait. Or they could just drink the juice maybe?
“No detention,” Phobia shook his head, “IDs for all.” He stuck his tongue out.
Laughing still, she mimicked him, sticking her tongue out too. “I am good! I feel funny, but good funny. And I like it here, let’s stay here. It’s better here.”
“Yup, we have entered the land of drinking too much,” Phobias said. He laid back down, looking up at the ceiling. He wondered where the ants went. He hoped he wasn’t about to cause an ant infestation in her house. He could create them, he didn’t know how to uncreate them. “Here is good. We can just… stay here.” He wasn’t sure how he planned to finish that sentence originally. He didn’t care.
April lay down on the floor next to Phobia, trying to calm down from her laughter. “Drinking too much is fun. And here is fun and nice. I’m really glad that you came to the party. If you didn’t I don’t know who I would talk to.” Well, that wasn’t completely true, she would talk to her other friends, but she didn’t feel like she could hang out with them the whole time and not talk to others. Not like how it was with him.
“You have other friends,” Phobia pointed out. Like Matty who was supposed to help with this thing. He wondered if the other man did. He didn’t need to go through the list of the people April could be hanging out with. Instead he said, “I’m glad I came too. For this. Not the other stuff. I like this.”
April shrugged and looked up at the ceiling. “We can hang out and do any of the things you like. It doesn’t have to be things you don’t like, that’s not fun for anyone.” And April tended to like most things anyway, so it was really a win-win. Genius ideas happened during drunk times.
“We went through this before; I don’t like things,” Phobia said. Except that wasn’t true. He liked this. He liked just hanging out and doing nothing. He liked the ease of it. It reminded him of times when he was younger and the meltdown hadn’t happened yet. “We need to get music and get you dancing. Maybe you’ll remember stuff subconsciously.”
April shook her head and poked him lightly in the arm. “No, no, nope, not true. You do like things. You like music, and you like this. Those are things, those things count.” April liked the idea of music and dancing though. Although, after looking at things in her file, maybe she didn’t want to remember after all. It didn’t seem like good things.
Phobia rolled onto his side and poked her back, “You can’t use that against me. That’s not fair.” He laughed. Okay, it was completely fair but that wasn’t the point. She was making it hard for him to be sulky, pointing that stuff out.
April smiled when he poked her back. “It’s not using it against you! It’s using it for you. It’s okay to like things. It’s good to like things, even if no one else likes them. I just want you to feel happy, even if its only a little bit and even if no one else knows it or sees it.”
“You’ll know because you keep bringing up the list,” Phobia said, sticking his tongue out at her again, “You never answered about dancing. I may have dance music on my phone. I’m working on your playlist. It’s not done yet.”
April made a face at Phobia. “I keep bringing it up to remind you!” Looking back to the ceiling, she smiled. “I want to dance. I want to hear the music, will you dance too?”
Phobia was pretty sure the response of I don’t know how do dance would not be acceptable. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through the list. He looked at her and said, “I’m not putting on classical music.” He found a song that was pretty old but still pretty good. He offered a hand so they could both get to their feet.
Taking his hand, April jumped up, bouncy but more steady on her feet this time. “I don’t think I know what classical music is.” When he started to play the song, April smiled brightly and started dancing to the music, liking how fun and upbeat it sounded.”
“It’s boring music that only people like you can dance to,” Phobia said, still holding onto her hand. He had trouble finding the beat to this to dance to. He was pretty sure he looked the fool but April seemed to be having fun and he wasn’t going to say anything.
April found the beat quickly and easily, happily dancing with him until the song ended. She was having fun, and she didn’t even seem to notice that he didn’t come to it so naturally. “I think I like this music better than boring music. That was fun!”
Phobia turned the playlist on and tossed the phone on the bed so he didn’t need to keep holding it and he didn’t need to worry what would come next.
“There. More dancing music,” Phobia said. Or they could go where there was an actual DJ but this was better. Less people and still good music.
April was really enjoying this. Sure, she was wobbly and drunk, but that didn’t stop her from dancing around the room with her eyes closed. She somehow managed not to fall over, but did lightly bump into him, and furniture along the way. “I like dancing. This feels free.”
Phobia liked watching April dance. He didn’t dance but he liked seeing her dance and see how happy she was. That was nice to watch. He leaned against the bed, smiling softly as she moved around the room. He wasn’t going to stop this. He had no desire to.
“It is,” Phobia agreed, even though he didn’t dance with her.
Moving back over to him, she grabbed his hands. “Dance with me? This is fun, I want you to have fun too!”
“I’m having fun,” Phobia said, “I don’t need to dance.” That didn’t mean he pulled away or take his hands back. He stepped closer to April and said, “I can, however.”
Smiling, she pulled him closer to dance. April was basically in her glory, music, dancing and friends, this was the best. Oh wait! Candy! “Oh, we should have some of the candy you brought. Do you want some?”
He tried to move with her. He wasn’t a good dancer. Or not to this type of music. Not that he had ever been somewhere that had the music he liked that he could move to. He had never been to a concert. Probably never would be now.
“That candy is all yours,” Phobia said, “Really. You have it.”
When the song ended, April flopped down on the bed. “Are you sure? You don’t like this kind of candy?” Finding the bag of candy he’d given her, she opened it and took out one piece offering it to him in case he changed his mind.
Phobia sat down next to her. He turned down the music so they could talk but still hear it. He shook his head, “I don’t mind marshmallows but they aren’t my favourite. I think my favourite Valentine candy are those red cinnamon hearts that break your teeth.”
Deciding to keep the piece for herself, she took a bite, making a mental note to try to remember his favorite Valentine’s candy. “Why do you like that kind the most?” April wasn’t sure if she’d ever tried that kind, but now she wanted to.
“I’m not sure,” Phobia said, “I think because I like the heat of the candy. I don’t know. Why do you like the candies that you like?”
April thought about it but her mind was too fuzzy to focus. It was hard enough to focus without being drunk. “Because they taste good? Because I can eat candy and no one tells me not to?” Maybe it was just that simple.
“You can eat all the veggies you want too and no one will say no,” Phobia said with a smirk but he nodded, “Candy is good. In general. Sweet and sugary and. The mark of adulthood to be able to eat whatever we want, however much we want.”
“What else is ‘the mark of adulthood’? I don’t think I was ever an adult before? I think people always told me what to do.” Laying back on the bed, she turned her head to watch him as she ate another piece of candy.
“I’m pretty sure you are living an adult life now,” Phobia pointed out, “We are all. I mean, we have our own places. Okay, maybe adults work. We don’t work but fuck it. Who wants that part of adulthood anyway?”
April rolled on her side to face him, leaning her head in her hand. “I do. Well, if work is dancing. Like before. And if that kind of dancing is fun like this kind was. If you could have fun for a job, that would be the best, right? Besides, adults take care of themselves, right? We don’t take care of ourselves here. They give us things.”
“We take care of ourselves,” Phobia countered. They fought against certain things, didn’t they? He didn’t want to argue about that right now. Being drunk made him think of happier things and thinking of the government was not happy, “So what fun job would you want here? Since dancing isn’t really a thing around here much.”
April didn’t feel like she really was taking care of herself. But maybe Phobia was, she was pretty sure he was. He seemed like he had it all together and knew things. Sighing, April looked up to the ceiling again, thinking. “I don’t know. Zayne said I could come work at the coffee shop. But I am afraid that I would mess things up. And people can get really mad about their coffee.”
“You so don’t want to work with the Coffee Fairy. That level of perkiness all the time? Shoot me,” Phobia said. Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Then again, April was pretty perky. Maybe she liked perkiness. He shouldn’t judge. He was so judging.
Furrowing her brow, April swatted lightly at Phobia’s arm. “He is nice to me. It might be nice to work with a friend. But I don’t want to let him down and mess things up, so I don’t think I should work there. I don’t know how to do anything that is a job here.”
“So work with him and learn,” Phobia said. He rolled onto his stomach and gently swatted back, “I’m not saying this but he is probably going to be the most patient one to teach you.” Okay. he was done saying nice things. So he poked her arm gently and said, “Eat more candy.”
April smiled and poked him back. “You eat more candy. I can go get more, maybe some kind you like but I don’t have the hot kind.” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to work at the coffee shop, but she was considering it more now that Phobia encouraged it.
Phobia poked her back again and said, “I’m good. Besides, drunk and sugared up sounds like a terrible idea. We’ll be too hungover tomorrow to go get our IDs then. One of us needs to stay sober.” Which that then made him laugh because that certainly wasn’t him.
Laughing, April poked him back a bunch of times. “If being sugared up is bad, then I am bad all the time.” She actually didn’t feel like having more candy at the moment. “What does hungover feel like?”
“Usually comes with a headache and a general feeling of feeling like shit,” Phobia said, poking her back. He looked to her, “Have you ever had a thumb war?” He suspected she might not and that she would enjoy it.
April wrinkled her nose. Headaches and feeling bad didn’t sound like something she wanted to experience, but it might be too late for all that. “What is a thumb war? Is it a bad thing?”
Phobia sat up enough and said, “Give me your hand.” Then proceeded to show her how to hold hands so they could have a thumb war and how to play.
Sitting up, she tucked her legs beneath her and paid close attention to learn how to play. Or something close to attention as she kept messing up and then dissolving into giggles and needed a minute or two to compose herself to try again. “Who thought of this as a game? This is so silly.”
“I have no idea,” Phobia said, “I used to play this when I was younger and I would always lose.” He tried again to win, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he tried to pin down April’s thumb. Finally he took his other hand and just covered hers, “Ha! I win!”
“Who did you play it with?” April tried to win, but since she really didn’t know what counted as winning, she just watched him with a smile. She thought it was cute when he stuck his tongue out and got distracted. When he covered her hand, she laughed. “I don’t think that’s winning!”
“I dunno. My friends. This girl I liked when I was 13,” Phobia said. He didn’t want to think about that. He pushed the thought from his head. Nope. The past was in the past. He grinned at her, laughing, “That’s totally winning!”
“What did you like about her?” Phobia might have wanted to get past it, but April wanted to know more. The guy who insisted he didn’t like anything had already told her a few things he liked. So she wanted to know more. Laughing, she put her hand on top of his. “Does that mean I win now?”
Phobia shook his head and said, “It doesn’t matter now.” She could be dead for all he knew. Or had abilities. Or got away from it all. It was another life. It wasn’t his life anymore and he didn’t want to think about it. That life belonged to Oliver and he was not Oliver anymore.
“Hey! That’s cheating!” Phobia protested and put his chin on top of her hand, “I win!”
“I think it matters.” April was curious, but she wasn’t going to push on this. Besides, they were having fun and she didn’t want to ruin it by being nosey. When he put his chin on her hand, she laughed and pulled her lower hand out and ruffled his hair. “Now I win.”
“It doesn’t. It’s history,” Phobia said. It was hard to talk with his chin on her hand. He laughed when she pulled her bottom hand out and touched his hair. This felt nice. He didn’t want to admit that either. He let go of her hands and moved closer, almost snuggling. Almost but not quite, “We’ll work on this later.”
April scooted closer and took a chance, hugging him. Maybe he would like a hug now, April always liked hugs. “Work on what later?” April wasn’t sure if she missed something or if she was drunk. She didn’t know how drunk worked.
“Me winning,” Phobia replied with a grin. He didn’t move away from the hug. Okay. Hugs were nice. Right now. Tomorrow would be different. He closed his eyes, not moving away from her or their position, “We’ll get this thumb war thing down.”
Smiling, April was happy for hugs that lasted. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean you are going to win! I will practice and then I will beat you. But you can pretend to win.” She laughed, just teasing. Sort of. She was going to practice, somehow.
“I will be king of the thumb wars,” Phobia declared, “It’s okay. We’ll come up with another game. I can’t think of any right now. Card games or something. Or you’ll learn how to dance again and you can show me.” He was rambling. He didn’t care.
April smiled, snuggling with Phobia. This was pretty nice, she could get used to this. April hadn’t had snuggles in a long time. She was afraid it would be scary, but it wasn’t. “Yes! I will learn and then I can show you and we can dance together. That would be so much fun!”