just like your father

“You truly break my heart,” Sarah pointed out, mock sadness across her pretty little face. There was something so full but so empty about her at times, a paradox of bravery that made her into both a wolf and the sheep it chased. “Why not? It’s cute, just like you, cute as a button,” as if this was ever what Howard would want to hear, she carried on, looking at him wistfully, “You know, if you brightened up a little then you’d start having more fun around here.”

“I’m a heartbreaker,” he responded, wasting no time to speak the lyrics in a monotonous voice, “dream maker, love taker. Don’t you mess around with me.” The left side of his mouth twitched into a slight grin. He found himself amusing. If he was laughing, it was usually his own doing... or someone else embarrassing themselves. The compliment meant nothing to him, it actually felt somewhat degrading but he took it anyway. “You’re fueling my ego. I don’t see what there is to be bright about. Haven’t you paid any mind to the things that go on ‘around here’?”

“Howard. Ho. Howie,” Alex said, slowing his dance moves as he slid up to the boy. He was such a party pooper, and Alex was determined to change that. There had to be something he could gain from this kid. “Lighten up and show me some moves. A little disco action?” he asked, doing the dances as he started suggesting them. “Cabbage Patch? How about the sprinkler?”

“It’s Howard,” the boy corrected, glaring at Alex. What was it with people calling him Howie? And Ho? The students around here could use some tips when it came to choosing nicknames. “Yeah, I’m not going to do any of those things,” that was a promise, “and I’m not too crazy about watching you do them either, so if you could take your cabbage sprinkler or whatever somewhere else, I’d appreciate it, thanks.”

“Wow. You’re so fucking hilarious,” he groaned, his eyes rolling so far into the back of his head he briefly wondered if it was possible for them to fall out. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that had ever happened to him. “But really, I’m serious,” he explained. “Take a good look at me. A really good look. Who do you see?”

“I like to think so,” he nodded, though the humor was starting to slip away the longer he stared at the boy. Was it just him or had everyone suddenly started acting a lot stranger lately? He blinked, almost expecting him to grow horns or something with the way he was acting, but he saw no change. He must’ve been drunk. “Still celebrating the new year, are we Ray?”

“Hardly,” Carrie deadpanned, raising her brows at him now. She really hadn’t meant it to get a rise out of him. In fact, she’d merely meant it in a teasing manner, but Howard did have a temper that she tended to forget about. “But better the truth than nothing.”

He might’ve been too quick to jump to such a drastic emotion. Howard took a deep breath, offering no apology but replying in a calmer tone when he spoke again. “What the fuck does the color matter anyway?”

Oh, Sarah knew that Howard Cross paid little attention to her. If anything she assumed that to him she was like a very persistent buzzing fly that never went away but she couldn’t help it, she was too social to control herself sometimes. “You know, if you wanted me to invite you to a concert too then you just had to ask, Howie.”

“Invite me all you want, I’ll still say no.” His eyes flickered back to her, slightly narrowed. He would rather be referred to by his full name than a nickname, especially one that made him sound approximately three years old. “And do not call me Howie.”

“Thank you for that insight,” Rose said, her brows furrowing slightly at the interaction. She wasn’t sure what made her feel so uneasy about the boy, but she would just sum it up to being her uncertainty of this timeline.  Clearing her throat, she scuffed her shoe against the ground, “I’m Rose, by the way.”

His mannerisms were slow and calculated, a vast opposite to her often erratic movements and rash decisions. “So you must be a student here then?,” she queried, placing the card in her pocket before creating more space between the two. “Though judging from the looks you’re getting,” she paused, looking towards the few people that gathered in the kitchen, either staring at her or the boy in question. Probably both. “-you aren’t from kenilworth?” 

“Are you sure about that?” He was only half joking. The girl in front of him didn’t look very sure about anything. He supposed she could’ve drank too much last night, or dealt with harder drugs than she was used to. People did stupid things to enjoy parties. “Howard,” he finally informed her. He would say it was nice to meet her, but frankly, he couldn’t care less.

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” This time his comment wasn’t coated in sarcasm. He was stating a simple fact. He would be long gone from this school if he wasn’t trapped there until graduation. Why anyone would want to stick around longer than that was beyond him. “Warwick, but I don’t see shackles on my wrists so everyone else can take their looks,” he didn’t glance at the others but raised his voice so he was sure they could hear him, “and shove them.”

He was the type of boy that would chase the wolves across the lake and she was a fool with a childlike dependency, a desire of wanting to belong. A beautiful little acquaintance. Loretta may have been as beautiful as Delilah and Medusa, but she did not use her beauty as terror. Her mother told her that a gift from a Goddess was no gift at all when you did not know how to use it for favor and fear. Instead, Loretta was quick in kindness her manipulations were faint and involuntary. She was Celia’s daughter in a way she had not realized.

A white rose in a gun, not yet dripped in blood.

Howard’s coat engulfed her frame and she stays quiet, watches him like he is a dream, “Now you will get sick. How will I live with that?” The sight of her skin coloring purple and blue from cold was nothing when she once had a skin like a bruised peach. “Come sit beside me,” her voice sweet, her heart open. They could share his coat.

“Ah, well,” he shrugged a shoulder,  “it’ll give me something to complain about.”

Howard wasn’t a people person. He may have been good with them but that didn’t mean he liked being in the presence of many. Loretta was somewhat of an exception. She carried a calmer presence than the other students, giving him little to lose his temper over. She was soft, too soft, too weak. His family had helped her and he would look out for her. He could’ve seen her as needy, he could’ve considered her an annoyance. He would sooner consider her a friend, if Howard Cross had friends.

“What if I have somewhere to be?” He inquired, a hint of a smile on his lips, standing a moment longer before he lowered himself to the ground, taking the empty place. “You ought’a be ashamed of yourself, miss Loretta, keeping people from big plans.”

    Charles wasn’t one for New Years resolutions, if anything they seemed like a waste of time and good thinking of time. Everyone complained far too much about a new year beginning or blew party horns in his face as if he was meant to care. It reminded him of his Mother (the real one) and how brash and over the top she had always been despite her limited funds, something Howard Cross would never come to understand. His wishes for a new years didn’t surprise Charles and although the Cross family didn’t impress him, he tried not to see Howard as the devil that he had always assumed he may become, he was just a teenager – which was definitely a little satanic in itself. “High hopes,” he mused.

For a moment as he looked away it probably seemed that it was where he was going to leave the conversation, his interest in Howard simply lacking. He looked back at Howard after a moments thought, “If I was in charge I’d have more cameras,” while cameras may have been his passion this was a different kind of necessity in Charles’ opinion. He only assumed that there weren’t any so his Father could get away with his dodgy dealings as of late too, “All over the place. Especially here, and then we’d finally have an end to all these ridiculous dares, Howard.”

“Wouldn’t hold my breath,” he responded. The boy wasn’t stupid. But he hadn’t lost all of his hope either. Clinging to it was a challenge, it was a slippery object and the invisibility of it added to the difficulty. That didn’t stop him from trying. Once in awhile he had to remind himself to listen to his voice of reason -- a voice that was, he was afraid, becoming fainter and fainter. It was strongest when he was in the presence of his sister, and especially in those split seconds where the sun would peak through the clouds and light would fall in a perfect line at his feet and all would feel right with the world until the darkness swallowed it up again. The darkness always swallowed it up.

“Mm,” was all he said at first, considering Charles’ comments. What would Howard do if he were in charge? He liked to think he would make something good of it. A school that students felt safe and comfortable in. An escape from their dreadful home lives, some worse than others. A home for them. Or perhaps he would burn it to the ground. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not in charge then, isn’t it?” His words were followed by a tilt of the head, trying to get a read on him. “Some people might just miss those ridiculous dares.”