InsaneJournal

Like Henrietta, Tumbleweed was a small town. As such, it was possible to visit many places within one ward, many stores of interest. The Barns was far enough away, thankfully, that it required driving. But it wasn’t much of one. Texas was a flat state. Declan was returning to his volvo, with the proceeds of his outing, when his eye snagged on a bright orange car, a familiarly bright orange car. His hopes that their number would be reduced to one hadn’t been met, but the glacial pace at which the car moved, not making terribly much progress, with steely determination felt rather unlike Dick Gansey. Declan had seen him drive (and park) enough times to recognize that.

That meant this car likely had Blue Sargent, possibly the strangest of Ronan’s friends, certainly the one from the most eye catchingly strange family and home life. Depending on the situation, that brought a spotlight or provided camouflage. Cars managed to go around her, but the parking space was tight for a vehicle of a camaro’s size. Declan made his way over, leaning down and waving outside the passenger side window.

--

Blue had gotten only slightly more confident as a driver since Ronan had given her this dream version of the Pig. She was especially better on open roads, especially freeways. Road trip driving.

But she had not gotten the hang of parallel parking. The Pig was not a small or graceful car; it seemed to have been built for horsepower and little else. She tried whenever possible to find a parking spot that did not require all this effort, but luck was not on her side today.

She was so absorbed that it took her a moment to notice Declan trying to get her attention. She pressed abruptly on the brake and even though the car had been going about two miles an hour, the car still managed a small jolt. “Oh,” she said, “Hey.”

She was even less certain of how to interact with Declan than how to parallel park. By all rights a rich white boy like him should have been hateful and annoying; somehow he managed to be so bland as to seem harmless. But he was related to Ronan, so she knew better than to believe the act. Still, it was nearly impossible to get an accurate read on him. She didn’t quite smile at him, but she gave him a small wave in return. “How’s it going?”

--

His smile was bland, immemorable. Not that he was likely to have any luck with Blue forgetting him while they lived a couple hundred feet away from each other. But they were in public. And Declan knew Blue less well than he knew Dick Gansey or Adam Parrish. “Fine,” he replied. He had found what he had been looking for, perfectly bland purchases Ronan never thought to make. It wasn’t anything to interest her.

“It looks like you’re having a little trouble,” Declan said neutrally. There was no judgment. It sounded the same way it might have had he said, ‘It’s a clear sky today. Not even a single cloud.’ It was simply an observation likely most people in the area had made the same as him. But Declan didn’t want the orange camaro attracting any more attention than it naturally did. “It’s a tight fit,” he added. It clarified that the trouble wasn’t Blue’s fault but that of the design of the car. Some cars were built for tight fits. The camaro had never heard of them.

--

Maybe it was because she was frustrated with parking, maybe it was because she had been caught in a vulnerable moment (and she was a proud creature, for all she liked to deny it), but that bland smile and neutral voice grated on Blue’s nerves. If he had been anyone she didn’t know, she would have told him to fuck off.

She settled for narrowing her eyes at him and tightening her fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m not used to parallel parking,” she admitted irritably. “But I wanted to stop at the shelter and sign up for their volunteer training, and there’s no other good spaces around here.”

--

Sometimes there was no good way to say something. Perhaps for Blue, this was one of them. But people were not born knowing how to parallel park any more than they were at riding a bicycle. But enough people learned the latter young enough they could forget that. Her body language was defensive, hackles raised. But that didn’t make her dilemma go away. Nor would it make Declan forget about ever having witnessed it.

“It’s a hot spot,” Declan agreed. “I’ve walked between places rather than search for more parking.” He had a couple bags as witness. It was an innocuous thing, and the shelter was here, and as with many small places it required showing up in person, even to sign up. And if she started coming regularly, this problem wasn’t going to be a one off issue.

“You’re a thoughtful driver,” Declan said. She was, perhaps, one of the few drivers to travel at a lower speed than Declan or Dick, which was saying something. There wasn’t a DMV that didn’t love Declan’s record. Well, back when he had had more of one. Everyone gained that pleasant blank slate here. “Would you like any assistance? I could be a second pair of eyes,” he offered. If nothing else. Offering to park the car for her was not likely to go over well, so Declan didn’t offer it.

--

He was being nice, and in such an inoffensive way that Blue couldn’t be mad but it made her even more suspicious. She felt that she understood, all of a sudden, why Ronan had always been so angry at his brother. Even when he was barely saying anything he seemed like he was lying (somehow, although she couldn’t see quite how), and Ronan hated lies.

Still, Blue couldn’t find anything objectionable in what he was actually doing and saying, as much as she wanted to, and she needed to live in proximity to him at least some of the time. So the sensible thing to do was to ask, “Do you know like a trick to this? I need to learn how to do it without a second pair of eyes.”

--

Her question surprised Declan, not that it showed on his face. That would have been rude; it was the right sort of question to ask, the right idea… to learn how to do something on her own when she would need to do it on her own in the future. Someone else might have interpreted that as Blue liked him or trusted him. But Declan supposed it more had to do with her being practical. And there were worse options than him, when it came to that sort of thing. It wasn’t as though she could google how to parallel park at the time she was parallel parking.

“Yes,” he replied first, to answer her question. Not that it was truly a trick, just physics. And Declan preferred spots he could back into, so as to leave more quickly. “A lot of it is about timing,” Declan replied. “You want to start ahead, fairly close to the next parked car, with your rear axle lined up with the back edge of that car. Then you turn the wheel toward the curb as far as you can and start backing up. When your first rear tire lines up with the outer edge of the parked car, straighten the wheel and continue. When the second rear tire lines up that way, turn the wheel completely in the opposite direction.” That was the basics…

“Especially in tight spots, you want to straighten your tires before you’ve gone as far in reverse as you can. It makes it easier to adjust and get closer to the curb. And that’s true in either direction when you adjust -- you want to end the movement with tires parallel to the curb,” Declan added. It wasn’t that much of a trick, but mentally and emotionally it made a huge difference in lessening frustration.

He hoped some part of that was something no one else had told Blue before or else she was likely to get upset with him for -- what was it Ashley had called it? -- mansplaining. Not that Blue’s gender had anything to do with it.

--

A lot of that did sound somewhat similar to something she’d been told, but parallel parking hadn’t been something that her mother or Calla (the main two who had taught her how to drive) had spent a lot of time on. So it wasn’t unhelpful to hear it again, and she had asked for it. If he’d said it without being prompted, though, she would have torn him a new one.

“I guess I just don’t have a point of reference -- from here -- for where my rear tires or rear axle is,” Blue said. “So maybe what you can do is watch while I do that and tell me when I’m lined up properly?”

--

The mismatch in sizes between person and car generally accounted for that. Few people were large enough to avoid the issue altogether, but experience helped. For Blue, it possibly seemed like being psychic until she learned to recognize it without being able to see the location directly. Declan nodded, glad she had been the one to bring them back to his initial offer. It was better than saying it twice. “Sounds like a plan,” Declan said.

Then he backed up to be out of the space the camaro was going to occupy in some time and chose a spot on the sidewalk where he could, more or less, see what he needed to see. The far side of the car would take a little guesswork. But it was the kind of guessing Declan was used to. And starting over, sometimes, was the best way to park. Too far off was difficult to rescue and not always worth it.

--

Blue navigated the car back out of the spot, which took a little doing, but thankfully she hadn’t gotten too far in. She lined it up with the car in front, and then glanced over her shoulder so she could see both him and the view behind her as she tried to back up as directed.

When he signaled, she stopped and tried to memorize the angle of it, the part of the car that was lined up with the car beside her. Then she continued, and with his help, she did indeed slide into the parking spot more easily. She put the car in park, turned it off, and got out.

“Thanks,” she said, sizing him up now that they were standing in front of each other. “That was actually helpful.” She tilted her head, and in the spirit of goodwill, added, “Do you wanna come into the shelter with me? Or are you off to do something else?”

--

Somehow she managed to be even shorter standing up than sitting in the Camaro. Declan knew how short she was, but he hadn’t spent much time in her company, and the times he had, other priorities had mattered more. Even her hair only added so much height. “You’re welcome,” he replied with proper manners. It wasn’t worth being rude, almost any of the time. Less so here.

He considered the invitation. Declan still lacked a regular enough schedule to be put off by an unexpected errand. He still had some time left in the window he’d scheduled for these sorts of things. And if the shelter was a place Blue was going to come to regularly, it was best -- safest -- if Declan knew a thing or two about it. This place had already had zombies and dinosaurs. It wasn’t too much to want to know the area. “I’ll come,” Declan replied with his usual brand of smile. “I’m glad you’re able to find worthwhile ways to pass the time. I’m still finding that myself.” He wasn’t likely to find that at an animal shelter, but he needed something. City politics was so small it wasn’t the anonymous kind of setting as DC.

--

Blue suspected he had only agreed to be nice, because he knew how close he’d come to offending her. Or maybe he was trying to size her up in the same way that she was trying to do to him. That was the main reason she’d made the offer, to see if she could get a glimpse beyond that bland expression.

Maybe it was the latter. She could see how easy it would be to start talking about how she liked animals, how she was traveling, how she worked at the magic shop and walked dogs. The way he phrased it insinuated that he might offer information about himself in return if she did, but she doubted it.

“It’s mostly the same stuff I’ve always done,” she said, and then, just to see if he confirmed her suspicions, “What did you do at home? You could probably find a way to do the same here.”

--

Declan knew Blue had had many different jobs. He had seen her at Nino’s and around town. She had lived at 300 Fox Way, the psychics’ house. But she had been friends with Ronan long enough Declan knew she wasn’t psychic herself, for what little thanks that was worth. So Blue saying it was generally the same stuff both said a lot and rather little at the same time. He hoped she handled strangers this way.

He shrugged slightly. “I was in college and interned in DC,” he answered. “I’m not sure whether college would be worthwhile here. And the only politics is at the local level.” Honestly, he had gotten his degree faked, blandly, in as bland a topic as he had been studying. It was just as well. Declan knew enough about politics to have a degree in it. He considered whether to share anything more than surface deep. What could be shared. Blue cared about Ronan, which wasn’t enough to get Declan’s trust. But he thought it more likely Blue simply put Ronan in her rearview mirror someday than likely to betray him.

“Mostly, though, I was just trying to keep Ronan and Matthew safe,” Declan said. He didn’t look right at Blue as he said it, though he kept an eye on her in his peripheral vision. It was at once the plainspoken truth and difficult for most of those knuckleheads who looked at him painted with Ronan’s brush to appreciate how true it was. “I don’t see how either of those options would help with that.” Other than handling Ronan’s business finances for him, Declan hadn’t found any satisfactory answer on that front.

--

Blue had an answer to the surface-level response ready to go, and then he surprised her with something more genuine. She glanced over at him, and found that she believed him. Her interactions with him at home had been limited, but he’d brought them a car battery and he’d taken Matthew out of town when they’d decided to stay and fight the demon.

“It’s not easy keeping him or any of them safe,” she commented, meaning it. She thought of all the time she’d spent watching Gansey to try to figure out when he was going to die and how to avert it, of having to stab Adam when his soul was too far from his body, of trying to prevent Adam’s possessed hands from killing Ronan. And, last only because her mind tried not to go in that direction, killing Gansey with a kiss to save Ronan and everyone else from the demon.

Unconsciously, she’d crossed her arms; a self-protecting gesture. When she discovered she’d done it, she dropped them to her sides again. “And I’m not sure college is worthwhile here either, although I really wanted to go. Eventually. I was taking a gap year to travel.”

Which he also probably knew, if he was keeping close tabs on Ronan while they had been gone. “I’ve been trying to do something like that here. Which is harder because so much keeps happening and I’m still working here. But we’ve been going back and forth.”

--

Details on how Blue had helped keep Ronan -- or any of them -- safe had been scarce for him back home. In many ways it was cheating to have read how they did it (as an ebook; Declan wasn’t going to sit around the Barns with physical copies of the books mostly about Ronan and his friends… in fact, he wasn’t going to be seen anywhere with a physical copy of those books). But Declan knew how Blue had helped Ronan in the end, the way they had all saved Ronan. Declan knew Gansey hadn’t stayed dead, though he had been surprised to learn how that all went down. Ronan never told him anything. But Declan wasn’t sure whether it was worse not knowing exactly what was happening to Ronan but knowing it was happening because of the way Matthew had been or reading about what had happened in particular detail. There wasn’t a good way around that.

Declan nodded. He knew Dick had taken a gap year, together with Blue and Henry Cheng, and was across the country every time stuff happened with Ronan. Some of the early stuff Declan might have preferred Dick had stuck around and been a solid friend for Ronan, but where it ended up? That wasn’t something any of Ronan’s friends could do that much about. So it was just as well they weren’t there to get killed. “It has been… fairly calm around the holidays, compared to what I’ve heard. But I’m not expecting that to last,” Declan agreed. Zombies and whatever else were practically part of the weather here.

“I’m generally sticking around here,” Declan said. Because Ronan was here. That went unspoken. Also, Declan leaving town wouldn’t make Ronan any safer because the nonsense was focused on this place. So again, staying. Even though Declan disliked the way anonymity was difficult to keep up in a small town. People in Henrietta had known who the Lynch brothers were. And people here knew about the go karts. It was the way of small town life.

He took in Blue again. She worked here because this strange place didn’t blink at newcomers and seemed far more forgiving of… well most things. “Have you thought about travel writing? If travel doubled as work, you could get more of it in,” Declan said. He didn’t know if that would ruin it for her. “I’ll text you two if or when it is necessary.” Just an offer. They didn’t have to be tied as closely to whatever dumb stuff his brother got up to.

--

“I haven’t been here quite a year yet,” Blue said, although as she said it she realized how quickly that year mark was creeping up on her. She’d gotten here in March and it was January. Two short months away. “So it’s my first holiday season. But Gansey’s been here longer and he’s been keeping notes. So he’s a good person to talk to about what’s usual or not.”

They had arrived at the shelter’s doors, and she pulled them open. It was busy in here, volunteers and visitors alike moving about, a few animals amongst them. There was a faint smell of mixed animal smells and disinfectant, and she glanced at Declan. “I’m more interested in doing than writing,” she said. “And I’m not really qualified for a legit job in that.”

And probably not good enough to fake it, which was more of an option here than usual. Ahsoka had suggested it for helping to save penguins. Blue was a decent writer who got good grades in English classes, but that wasn’t the same thing as knowing anything about journalism. A blog of some sort was a possibility, but again, plenty of people could sit around writing about the world and what other people needed to be doing to save it. Blue wanted to be the one getting out there and doing it herself.

“I’m just going to get some info at the desk, and then probably look around at the animals,” she said. “You can join me if you want.” Or he could take the out.

--

Declan nodded. Dick Gansey was a good person to talk to, reliable generally compared to many other options. No one chased and recorded the strange nearly so much. It made him a fascinating sight, but most people were good with five minutes or so, rather than hearing everything there was to say about dead Welsh kings, for example. Declan had listened more than most; he didn’t care about dead Welsh kings, but anything his brother was getting drawn into was worth knowing. Like this whole through the looking glass world.

He followed Blue in, taking in everyone and the animals around them. It was a bit smellier than A Wonderful Life would have portrayed, but it still generally fit that kind of attitude. “What would you need to do to feel qualified?” Declan asked. Because anything else required to be qualified could be forged. The welcome committee had proved themselves as apt at that as anything Niall and Declan had ever paid for. It was a fairly high bar. That and Declan wondered what and how Blue would get herself involved with whatever it was she wanted to do out there. Saving animals made an argument for college or a job at a zoo or something. Anything seemed likely to limit her options for travel.

He considered the options, staying or leaving. Declan wasn’t going to take any animal home. That made him responsible for its well being, and he simply couldn’t do that with Ronan to look after. Matthew and Ronan had sometimes proved more than one person could handle. “I’ll stay through the bureaucracy,” Declan said. It was good to know what information this place would have on Blue. The animals -- the fun part -- was better not to permit temptation. Besides, Ronan had a dog now -- a real, undreamed animal -- if he wanted to pet something or throw a ball.

--

“Take a journalism class or something,” Blue said. “There’s a lot I don’t know about writing.” There was a lot she didn’t know, in general, and a lot she wanted to learn. It was sometimes a thrilling feeling and sometimes a frustrating one. More frustrating in this case.

She headed towards the desk and joined the short line of folks waiting to talk to the staff. She put her half-gloved hands in the pockets of her handmade skirt and looked at Declan. “I did plan on going to college before getting a job I actually like. But this place makes college complicated. And I wasn’t really ready to go yet.”

--

“Start writing,” Declan suggested. It didn’t have to be public, and it didn’t have to be good. “There’s a lot you can learn from doing.” Sure it was a specific point about writing and many other skills. But Declan had found it to be true about any number of things. Like lying. Or dealing with the black market. The most incredible part though -- and this was true for Ronan’s friends more broadly -- was that they chose what to do based off what they wanted to do. Off doing things they liked.

It was a foreign concept. Declan had so long forgotten what it was like, and the few times he had done anything for him, it had been a disaster. Admittedly, it was possible it would have been a disaster anyway. And they had at least survived the first surprise assassination attempts. Well, the Lynch brothers had. Fewer of the Hennessy girls. “This place has a way of upending plans,” Declan said neutrally.

--

“I think I’m more interested in studying,” Blue said, “But either way I have to take good notes. So I could do both.”

She was considering what to say next, but she was saved by one of the staff at the desk saying “Next!” and waving her over. “I guess I’ll see you back at the Barns?” she said to Declan, partially over her shoulder as she started to step forward. “Thanks for your help.”

--

Declan nodded. “Sounds about right,” Declan said. Monmouth Manufacturing was on the Barns, but it still lacked a real kitchen. His espresso machine did more cooking than the horror combination of a kitchen/bathroom that place had. It only made sense to come over to the house. And his kitchen? Well, it no longer had gore or trash in it. It also lacked some appliances.

“You’re welcome,” he said and made his way out. He could make the offer for defensive driving lessons another time.