Dive

Colby wasn’t the most reliable compass for morality- even she knew that. Still, she didn’t know the people in this town, but he seemed to. At least he thinks he does. That kind of arrogance was annoying- thinking you knew things when you didn’t. His sarcasm comment and his coffee order only perturbed her further. Of course he wanted a nitro cold brew. She couldn’t do that, but even if she could, she definitely wouldn’t with the equipment at the small-town coffee shop. “If it’s so awful, why don’t you leave?” She put her hands on the back of her hips, almost around her back. “We don’t have the machine for that. Small town- small equipment.” Her eyes shifted to his crotch, giving her zing a punchline. “Best I can do is hot and cold foam and espresso. Take your pick.” 

All he wanted was coffee. That was the only reason he was here yet it felt physically draining to talk to this woman. He laughed at her comment, as if he had any plans to spend the rest of his life here? Absolutely not. That sounded like torture. “I will, eventually. Maybe when I’ve gotten full use of my house.” No, it really wasn’t a matter of that, he just... “Or, when I want to.” He couldn’t leave, not yet, he had just gotten here. Of course they didn’t. Why not make his trip to the coffee shop even more useless by adding the fact that they didn’t have what he came for. Nate rolled his eyes at her comment, how child like, as if anything he had, played a role in this conversation. “of course you don’t,” coffee hardly seemed worth it anymore, “cold foam and espresso then.”

To be fair, there are many in-laws. And, yeah most of them, I don’t care for. I care for my niece’s and my sister. I know Sydney exists... are there other people in the Ashworth family? @ashwrths @bethshq @brookeashwrth @sydashworth

Beth nodded, conceding the point. “No, it’s definitely not love, but we all say that it is.” It honestly baffles her, how the word love is so regularly used to describe things that do not represent love in the slightest. It’s just expectations and conformity wrapped up in pretty bows. A part of her wanted to curl away in disgust, or vehemently reject the personality she was known for in Fairview. But she couldn’t. It was so intrinsically tied to her, tied to her identity and tied to her understanding of family that she couldn’t help but wonder if it was even possible to strip all of it from her person. Besides, she could admit to herself that there were aspects of her personality that felt real… And yet, what was even more difficult was reconciling the young lady she is in Fairview with the young woman she was at university— her core values never wavered, and yet the way she presented herself changed— she wondered what her uncle thought, having been privy to both ‘sides’ of her, so to speak. Perhaps one day she would ask, when she wasn’t such a coward.

A small scoff escaped her as her uncle continued to speak. “I’m fairly certain that in Fairview, most people are more likely to remember my surname before my actual name.” Though, in their defense, Elizabeth wasn’t necessarily a stand-out name. There had been quite a few Elizabeths in high school during the same time, but surprisingly she’d been the only Elizabeth in her grade. Small miracles. “Hell— I’m pretty sure most people know exactly where I live.” Small towns truly are a different world, especially in the suburbs. God knows that she can’t fathom having so many people knowing exactly where her dorm is. In cities, there’s a sense of privacy that small towns do not afford— and so people devise their own ways to create privacy. The Ashworth’s way was to present themselves as picture-perfect households that look as if they’d been pulled out of the pages of a misogynistic magazine from the 50s— but it works. It works amazingly.

Beth laughed, the sound loud and open as her uncle presented the idea of beating her at chess as a life reward for being her uncle. “Maybe we can take this up in the ring,” she replied, her fists coming up as she fell into a boxing stance, before she laughed once more and continued walking. It had been too long since she’d properly worked out, and she couldn’t help but miss the physical exertion— and God, it would be so freeing. “Careful now, if you actively scowl you might just end up attracting more attention. Housewives get bored, you know? A new face with a perma-scowl might be the exact kind of excitement they think they want in their lives.” It was a stereotype, but one that seemed to actually be true.

If your entire environment was teaching you wrong, who else could you blame but the environment? At what point did you just say fuck it and deconstruct everything you had learned. Then how much could you also blame your environment before having to reconcile that you were also at fault? “Well that’s fucked.” He shrugged simply. It was. Although if he were honest, he was in no place to talk about love but he was also aware enough to see a terrible situation when presented. As an outsider, with no desire to look in, Pandora’s box with all her evil seemed just as appealing. 

He wasn’t sure the feature of her being mainly identified by her surname was just attributed to her or the rest of the Ashworths either. In a town that seemed like it would gladly fit into the Twilight Zone. Regardless, names meant more than just an identifier here, it was almost like they were an identity in itself. The currency of Fairview was the weight of their names, whether they knew it or not. He figured that was just small town mentality though. Where judgement was about as common as a freshly cut lawn. “I’m sure everyone knows where everyone else lives here.” How else did you casually talk about the person down the street without having to make sure you weren’t saying their names. If subtlety was even the goal here. “And yet, I suppose there’s some appeal if it’s still keeping so many people here.” He had yet to find it. He was slightly convinced they were just brainwashed. Everyone in town couldn’t be that stupid, right? The Bermuda triangle theory still stood strong.

Nathan nudged his niece at her suggestion of taking it to the ring. If there was a decent gym, why not? “Don’t suggest a fight you can’t handle,” he teased. He’d never truly go hard on her, even just sparring sounded good. For both of them. Beth could use a decent, health release, and he just enjoyed occasionally hitting things. Amongst other reasons. And if anyone had a problem, he could easily take the blame, or toss them a pair of gloves and duke it out. A quiet snort left his mouth. That had felt like a jab, a true one, but a jab nonetheless. “I’d be surprised if they aren’t already actively out crawling looking for a target.” Or maybe they were and he had just been blessed for the moment. How exactly was he supposed to keep that blessing going? The last thing he wanted was to be catnip for bored housewives. “Isn’t brunch and bottomless mimosas supposed to be their excitement? If that’s all they do for fun no wonder they’re bored.”

when: day after the coming out. where: chez naomi. / @wisteriastarts.

Brooke hadn’t been nervous about the whole coming out thing, until she was back in fairview, so instead of going to Peyton’s or god forbid, going home, she’d given Peyton her things and walked to chez naomi. She was on her second  souffle by the time she really clued into the chatter, did you hear she’s gay, not surprising - the poor girl has gone through a lot, maybe it’s an identity crisis. Her stomach twisted and instantly, Brooke wanted to hide, she wanted to disappear but she couldn’t even get up. Instead, she swivelled around in her chair, eyes on the older woman who whispered last. “Mrs. Martinez, I’d suggest getting your hearing aid looked at, the volume must be screwed, you’re not being as quiet as you think you are.” With that, she turned back around, tucking into her treat again. “Stupid bitch,” the words were muttered under her breath, the blonde barely paying attention to anything else.

She studied her uncle, her lips pursed in thought. How long would her uncle last? She wasn’t sure, and while she figured he might not be able to keep the charade up for long, she also knew that he could be determined when he wanted to be. “If you put your mind to it, I think you’d be able to fool Fairview for a while. Whether you’d enjoy doing so is a different matter altogether.” But then again, happiness seemed temporary in Wisteria Lane regardless— or perhaps she was looking at everything through a biased lens. Disenchantment with her hometown had grown once she’d left to go to university, and it had grown even more when Mrs. Moore’s death had reached her ears.

Her expression turned firm at his next words. “It’s easy for them to love me. They think they know everything about me.” Fairview had seen her through her outwardly awkward stages. They were there to see her as a little girl, shyly hiding behind her father during Ashworth parties (before elementary school changed things.) They knew about her initial inability to do well in chemistry— those whispers hadn’t stopped until she’d buckled down and taught herself how to balance equations. They’d known she’d gotten rejected by her first crush in middle school. Hell, half of them still believed that she’d mostly stayed home before leaving Fairview for university because she’d been so heartbroken about being broken up with immediately after graduation. “They think they’ve seen me at my worst, and it’s easier to love someone ‘perfect’ when you’ve seen them fail.” And so, when she’d graduated as salutatorian (not valedictorian, she isn’t that perfect), as head cheerleader with a perfect quarterback boyfriend and a willingness to help anyone who asked, they felt that her ‘perfection’ was all the more deserved. She wasn’t an evil mastermind— It wasn’t like she’d planned all of this out, but it was the way things had unfolded, and Beth could admit to herself that she preferred being loved, no matter how superficially, than being shunned and looked down upon for being too perfect. “Besides, I’m an Ashworth. It’s what we do.” Her voice took on an affected air as she turned to her uncle, trying her best to look as haughty as possible.

The snobbish air was quickly traded for a groan. “You already have so many talents— like… beating me at chess, every—single—time. I will win against you one day, I swear.” A cheeky grin crossed her face as she laughed, a horrible idea forming. “Perhaps I should tell everybody that you’re actually the nicest person ever and that you just have terrible resting bitch face. You’ll get so frustrated by everybody talking to you and asking you for favors that the next time we play chess, you’ll be off your rhythm— and then I’ll win.” Of course, she’d never do such a thing, but the idea made her inwardly snort.

He couldn’t imagine generating enough care to actively try and fool the whole of Wisteria Lane. He hadn’t even tried to generate enough to get through ordering a cup of coffee and that was just a limited amount of people. There wasn’t enough money in the world for him to ever try. Though maybe the entertainment would come from the reactions of those who knew what he really was like. It still just wasn’t enough. His lack of enjoyment wouldn’t be something new to this town. Did authenticity exist? “I think my mind would prefer to suffer in a different way.”

“You were raised here, of course they think that.” There had to be some psychological phenomena that explained small town logic. The same phenomena that explained the switch that flipped in Beth at the moment. Maybe it was an absence of privacy of healthy privacy. The entire town was functioning in some aspects of privacy but God only knew how much of that was a result of really just hiding their deals with the devil from the rest of the town. “I’m not sure that’s love.” He wasn’t sure what it was either but it seemed more bent on conditions than anything else. It was easier to humanize someone when they failed, obviously, but if their love was dependent on humanizing Beth or anyone else, it seemed like a subtle manipulation. It wasn’t PTSD was it? The phenomena or small town logic. Even just hearing bits of experiences in this godforsaken town, it did ring a little like trauma. Nathan let out a snort at her next words. “That name is insignificant the moment you step out of here.” If anyone knew it, it was Beth. That last name accounted for just a last name outside of the unhealthy environment and yet she wore it like a badge. Not that she shouldn’t be proud, but the pressure of a last name wasn’t worth trading in your sanity. 

“It’s more of a life reward for being your uncle than a talent.” Although he couldn’t lie, he had invested more time into finding new ways and moves to beat her with. Nathan just couldn’t take the possibility that Beth would ever beat him, not while he was still capable of all his faculties. He scoffed, offended, mostly proud, and slightly impressed. “Evil. If I didn’t know better, those would be fighting words, Elizabeth.” He’d have to get a beware of dog sign, he didn’t have a dog but maybe it would scare people off. “Don’t let them think my resting bitch face doesn’t work, I’d have to actively scowl and that requires more muscles.” He laughed. Perhaps he should prepare himself if she ever resorted to such tactics.

Colby was a virtuoso when it came to creating beautiful artwork. Since starting at the cafe, she had done just that with the coffees and foam. Some didn’t appreciate the frill, like the tall blonde guy who was making a scene, but some came just for it. It was times like these when she missed Daddy who would smite anyone who dared to raise their voice around her. Still, she waved to her guardian, signaling that she didn’t need to intervene, then ushered the housewife who had just got her cup. She waved the male to the counter looking a little like a kicked puppy. “You know, in a nice town like this, you don’t have to be so rude to get your way. Now, Sir, what can I get for you, so you can get off to your important plans?” 

Of course, it was the barista. To be fair, everyone else in line had spent about 5 minutes longer than what an average amount of time, but with this town, he supposed they were probably talking about something that had nothing to do with their order. And it didn’t help that the barista herself seemed like part of the problem. Nice. This town didn’t truly know the definition of nice. Nathan rolled his eyes, “a town like this is built on people being rude to get their way.” How naïve. “Some would say sarcasm is also rude.” Not that he cared, he just wanted his coffee. Maybe to prove a point while he had time. “Nitro cold brew, with a pump on vanilla.”

Andrew was ordering a black coffee with sugar and 3 espresso shots when he heard a rude voice piping up behind him. Damn, he would know that voice anywhere. When the hell had Nathan gotten back? Did Emily call him for some kind of backup? Andrew thought she wanted to work through things. He rolled his eyes stepping to the side to wait for his cup. “Sorry, they’re all out of cretinism but maybe you can lend them some.” Hearing his name called, he smiled a thanks to the barista, slipping a fiver into the tip jar. “When did you get in?” He stalled on the way out of the shop. 

Ha, funny. If he could only recognize Andrew by the back of his head, he wouldn’t have had to wait in this line in the first place. He definitely wouldn’t want to. It seemed like the line had picked up and as much as this was a conversation he couldn’t care less about... that was just it. “I can’t lend what I don’t have but you seem like a good candidate for that.” He shrugged. Next time, he was getting a coffee machine. Nathan glanced over, a brow raised, “ah, you’re wife didn’t tell you?” He couldn’t be surprised, that household was currently burning. With his order done, he gave a quick nod to the barista. “I’d assume you don’t know I bought a house here either then.” Maybe his visit wasn’t so bad, but he was still getting a machine. At least they’d get his order right.

She gently nudged her uncle’s arm as they walked, rolling her eyes a little as she spoke. “You can’t fool me— but a part of me would like to see you try to fool the rest of Fairview.” It would be easy, since they don’t know him all that well— but on the other hand, Beth had to admit that a larger part of her didn’t want to see Uncle Nate pretend to be anyone but himself. If she were being honest, there was already too much pretending in this damned place anyways.

“His dogs are much better company,” she muttered quietly, before falling silent at Nate’s next words. Her expression threatened to freeze on her face, but the voice in her head couldn’t help but acknowledge that it was true. Being an Ashworth meant creating an image and maintaining it. Manipulation. And in her line of study, it can be a useful skill, though she could also admit that it wasn’t a skill she was entirely proud of. “I mean, I am studying to be a lawyer,” she joked back. Whenever she was home, she fell back into old habits. It was like finding an old dress in your closet, and putting it on and finding out that it still fits perfectly. She shook herself from her thoughts, schooling her expression once more as she smiled at a fellow pedestrian as they passed by. ‘Mrs. Donaldson’, her mind supplied. The old lady made some odd fashion choices— but she makes it work. 

The smile morphed into a smirk as Beth watched Nathan groan. “I would say that because you’re in a place this small, you definitely need one. You don’t want to be running into the same people every time you want to get coffee. It always turns into hours of small talk.”

Nathan couldn’t help the smile that placed itself after her response. What a great bet that would be, to see how long he would last faking his way through Fairview, obviously assuming no one else had seen his treatment in that coffee shop. “And how long do you think I would last?” A week would be believing in him more than anyone should. Maybe more accurate would be an hour or two. Maybe if a clear distraction and motivation he could push himself longer. “Maybe you’re right about fooling you, but you haven’t beat me at chess yet.” A trivial point, but a point nonetheless.

“They often are.” He added, clearly speaking about the dogs. He didn’t miss the small moment of hesitation but knew better than to try and take back or cover up what he had said. Especially when he had meant what he said. The last thing Beth needed was for him to add himself to the list of lying adults around her, not when she was one herself. Especially not when it was clear that she was often smart enough to pick it up on her own. But manipulation had been an easy word. Or society had seemingly made it bad, as if most of society wasn’t covering up their own forms of manipulation on the daily. “No wonder they love you already, you’ve been practicing this for years,” he quipped. Moving to Fairview was supposed to help make things make sense, but that was like joining a circus and expecting to not become a clown wasn’t it? It’s nearly impossible to make sense from the senseless. “Maybe you’ll have to teach me that skill, I wouldn’t mind adding another talent to my book.” He gave her a slight nudging, hoping she’d understand a little better what his intentions were by his original statement. Women's fashion. It never makes sense. The cup was brought to his lips, a hope to stifle the thoughts that threatened to spill.

The little genius had a point, it was clear she knew it too. Still, he rolled his eyes. “I feel like the only small talk I’d get would be someone telling me my aura is uninviting.” Otherwise his resting face wasn’t doing it’s job correctly.

Beth glanced at her uncle at the corner of her eye, stifling a laugh at the decidedly altruistic but absolutely untrue reason for his word choice. “Nope,” she replied, popping the p as she walked with him out of the shop, dropping the empty cup of coffee into the garbage as she walked past. 

Uncle Nathan was someone she’d only really started to spend a lot more time with once she’d entered university— he was also the only adult in her life that she had no qualms about asking for tips on getting whiskey out of carpets and rugs. She’d spent a fair few long weekends with him, opting to stay at his house instead of coming back to Fairview, for her own peace of mind. As they walked, Beth took note of the empty streets— only to turn her attention back to her uncle when he spoke once more. “Riveting,” she replied, sarcasm oozing from her bones. “However, his dogs are adorable, and once you get Mr. Welling talking, you can pretty much get him to him do anything.” Just smile sweetly, ask the right questions, and hum in understanding at the right moments, and eventually he’d wander off. “Do you still not have a coffee machine?”

If his own niece didn’t believe him, who would? He couldn’t even fake offense, she had spent enough time with him over the years to know he had been lying. She could at least, pretend. “Damn, I’ll try to be a little more convincing next time.”

Nate shook his head. He’d never understand her need to fit in to this environment when she was here, though it had just helped him, so maybe he should hold back on the judgement at least a little. Beth had to be one of his favorite people in this cursed town, it wasn’t much of a contest with who he had met so far. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Nate snorted under his breath at her comment, if only Mr. Welling could hear her now. “Unfortunately I wasn’t introduced to his dogs. I would’ve enjoyed that more.” Not if it included all the other conversation he didn’t want. “You know Beth, some people would call that manipulation.” It was a talent though, maybe manipulation was an easy word but maybe it was the best thing Fairview had done to her. Nate groaned, “I thought with a place this small, I wouldn’t need one.”

Emily stood in line next to her brother, tapping a heel against the floor as they waited for their orders. She chuckled at the sudden outburst, pure annoyance radiating off her older sibling. A hand patted his back sympathetically. “He’s not from around here. Sorry.” She called out, looking towards anyone that he might have offended, intentional or not. True, the line was longer than normal, but this did happen to be one of the only coffee places in all of Fairview. No amount of money could buy you a faster entrance. “We do have coffee back at home you know. Free coffee that you could make any way you want, no chance of some high school employee to get your order wrong.” She lightly suggested, an amused smile surfacing as she shook her head. Glad to see his patience hadn’t changed over the years. “Should I even ask how you get your coffee back home? I’m guessing no lines of this magnitude." 

He was going to have to invest in a coffee marker due to this town. Nate snorted at Emily’s attempt to cover for him. He fought the urge to yell that he had meant what he said, but apparently making Emily’s life less hard was his job as an older brother? Sounded wrong. They should have just gone to get food, but no, coffee, he had insisted. He would know better now. Was pettiness driving his staying? Absolutely. “We’ve spent too much time here now. It would be faster to just wait out this absolute snail, than the process of getting back and setting it up.” It may have been petty driven but he wasn’t completely wrong. Nathan grinned at her question, “the development of mobile orders has really given me the instant coffee gratification I adore.”

Beth had needed some space from… everyone, and so she’d ended up at The Coffee Cup, drinking a latte. It wasn’t a usual haunt of hers, hence why she’d chosen to spend time here. Her quiet musings were broken by a familiar voice, and she swallowed a snort as her uncle’s words floated through the air. She glanced at the recipient of the somewhat harsh words, only to wince as she watched Mr. Welling gear up to spiral into a rant. 

She smoothly moved to Nate’s side, a wide smile on her face. “Mr. Welling! It’s so good to see you! How are your dogs— I’m glad their surgery went well.” Her voice was kind and sympathetic, but as she spoke she gently pushed him along, forcing him to finish his disgustingly sweet, even for her coffee order. She continued to exchanged words with him for a little longer, as she was genuinely interested in the wellbeing of his golden retrievers, before he finally left the shop. Once he was gone, she turned back to her uncle, who by this point had already finished ordering, and was halfway through receiving his coffee. Mr. Welling really had been taking forever. “Cretinism?” Beth asked, an eyebrow arched. An amused smile threatened to spread across her face.

With a town that wasn’t as small as they seemed to claim to be, there was no excuse for only one coffee shop. This was absolutely idiotic. They had to realize this wasn’t a great idea. The Coffee Cup could build a second shop for all he cared. Ah, the man in front of him wanted to put up a fight. He had seen that look too many times before.

Before either of the men could talk more, Beth had come and save him. Possibly from himself as well as from Mr. Welling talking him to death. Nate let out an exasperated sigh, glad the distraction meant progress for himself. Dog surgery? Why did Beth know so much about this random man. Okay, so it wasn’t a random man to her and he did seem like he’d enjoy oversharing. After all of that, it seemed useless to order black coffee like usual, so he picked something off the menu that didn’t sound too sweet. Nathan glanced over at Beth’s return, shrugging, “would you believe me if I said I’m interested in expanding the vocabulary of this town?” A small smirk graced the corners of his lips. “How was hearing about Mr. Welling’s dogs surgery?” Words he hoped would never come out of his mouth again.

Whatever small voice had told him to move here had been loud as shit until now. Now it was a voice of regret. Maybe it had been a voice of regret all along but what was done was done. Now, now he was waiting in a line probably the slowest line, for a cup of coffee, that was overcharged. How did people stay here? He was still figuring out why. Nate let out an audible grunt as another minute passed and still no movement in this damn line. He leaned a little, bringing his fingers up to snap a few times, getting the attention of the person in front of him, “hey, I’m sure you have nothing better to do than order some iced caramel macchiato with 7 pumps of cretinism but the rest of us,” he motioned to himself and whoever was by him, “have better things to do.” He had nothing else to do, but anything would be better than listening to someone draining on and on with their coffee order.