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saw your request were open so here i go!
okay how about a tyrell!reader complaining about not being wear any of her clothes from highgarden(i guess like whatever margery wears in the show) with any of the northern men
SILKS, SATIN, AND MORE SILKS
ā ROBB STARK āā.ą³ąæ*:d
summary: itās way too cold for you to wear your clothes from home at winterfell
content: fluff, Tyrell!reader
notes: finally answering asoiaf requests⦠itās been a minute lads.
Robb should have known something was wrong the moment Grey Wind refused to enter the room.
The direwolf had followed him all the way through the corridor, only to stop abruptly at the doorway, ears flattening as he peered inside.
Robb frowned. āWhat are you..?ā
Then he stepped into the chambers himself and understood immediately.
The room looked less like Winterfell and more like someone had stolen a piece of summer and scattered it across the bed.
Silks overflowed in soft rivers over heavy Northern furs. Gold jewelry glittered beside candles. Thin fabrics in rose pinks and pale greens lay carefully unfolded as though they had been handled a hundred times already tonight.
And there you sat in the middle of it all looking deeply, deeply miserable.
Robb closed the door quietly behind him.
āYouāve been hiding all this?ā
You glanced up briefly before looking back down at the dress in your hands. āWould you believe me if I said no?ā
āNo.ā
āWise.ā
He crossed the room slowly, undoing his gloves. Snow melted from his boots onto the stone floor as he approached the bed.
āI thought those trunks only held books.ā
āI wanted them to hold books.ā You sighed dramatically.
Robb snorted softly despite himself.
Then he picked up the nearest dress.
Or tried to.
The thing nearly slipped straight through his fingers.
āWhat is this made from?ā he asked suspiciously.
āSilk.ā
āItās practically see through, that canāt be right.ā
āIt is right, youāre just northern.ā
āIt feels like one sharp branch would destroy it.ā
āThat is because you live surrounded by sharp branches.ā
You finally smiled a little at your own joke, and Robb relaxed slightly at the sight of it.
Still, he could tell something sat heavy beneath the teasing.
He sat beside you, carefully moving aside a pale gold gown. āTell me.ā
You were quiet for a moment.
āI miss home.ā
The words came so softly he almost missed them beneath the crackling fire.
You swallowed once before continuing.
āI miss the heat. I miss open windows and flowers everywhere and not feeling cold every second of every day.ā Your fingers traced absentmindedly over embroidered roses stitched into one of the sleeves. āI miss colour.ā
Robb blinked.
āThere is colour here.ā
āThere are three colours here, Robb. White snow. Grey stone. Brown fur.ā
āWe also have navy blues.ā
āHow generous.ā
That earned a laugh from him.
But your eyes were still sad.
āI know it sounds ridiculous,ā you murmured. āTheyāre only dresses.ā
āTheyāre not only dresses to you.ā
You looked at him then, surprised by how quickly he understood.
āIn Highgardenā¦ā you hesitated, searching for the words. āEverything was beautiful all the time. Music during supper. Roses climbing walls. Gold banners in the wind. We dressed for celebrations even when there was no celebration at all.ā You gave a small smile. āMargaery used to say beauty itself was a kind of power.ā
Robb glanced down at the gowns spread around you.
And suddenly he understood why these mattered.
Before he could say anything else, you stood abruptly with a dress gathered in your arms.
āYou know what the true tragedy is?ā
āWhat?ā
āYou have never seen any of these on.ā
Something about your tone made him wary immediately.
āShould I be concerned?ā
āMaybeee.ā
Then you vanished behind the privacy screen.
Robb leaned back against the bedpost slowly.
āIām beginning to dislike that answer.ā
āYouāll survive.ā
There was rustling fabric behind the screen.
Then silence.
āYou truly thought Northern dresses were fashionable?ā
āThey are warm.ā
āThat is not the same thing.ā
āI think it should count for something.ā
āIt counts for nothing.ā
Robb grinned despite himself.
Then you stepped out from behind the screen and every thought in his head vanished.
The gown was deep green silk that clung softly at the waist before flowing down in layered skirts. Gold threading curled along the fabric like vines. The neckline dipped low enough that Robb immediately looked away,
and then immediately looked back.
You noticed at once.
āOh?ā you said innocently. āYour opinion seems to have changed.ā
Robb cleared his throat. āIt isā¦different.ā
āDifferent good or different bad?ā
āā¦oh you know, different.ā
Your grin widened.
And that was only the beginning.
The next dress was pale blue with sheer sleeves and an open back tied together with ribbons.
The one after that had tiny pearls stitched into the bodice.
The dress that followed was practically see through.
And every single one seemed designed specifically to torture Northern men.
By the fifth gown Robb had abandoned all attempts at dignity.
You stepped out wearing soft cream silk, the fabric wrapped elegantly around your body with golden straps crossing your waist.
Almost all of your sides were bare.
The only ārealā coverage sitting atop your breasts.
Robb stared.
Actually stared.
You tilted your head. āWell?ā
His mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
āThat,ā he finally managed weakly, ācannot possibly be all of the dress.ā
You burst into laughter.
āIt is absolutely all of the dress.ā
āThere are holes in it.ā
āThey are cut-outs.ā
āIt looks unfinished.ā
āIt is fashion.ā
āYou are barely wearing anything.ā
You spun once slowly just to make matters infinitely worse.
The gold chains at your waist glimmered in the firelight.
Robb looked genuinely distressed now.
āPeople saw you in this?ā
āYes.ā
āOutside?ā
āYes.ā
āIn public?ā
You laughed harder. āRobb, you look horrified.ā
āI am horrified.ā
āYouāre blushing.ā
āIt is warm in here.ā
āYou live in the North. You donāt know what warm is.ā
Gods, you were enjoying this now.
The earlier sadness had melted completely into amusement as you walked closer, watching him struggle.
āYou know,ā you said thoughtfully, āmy cousins used to complain this one was too modest.ā
Robb made a noise somewhere between disbelief and suffering.
āToo modest?ā
āYes.ā
āYour family allowed this?ā
āMy grandmother encouraged it.ā
āThat explains quite a lot about the South.ā
You were close enough now that he could see the tiny gold flowers woven into the straps around your waist.
And Robb suddenly realised something deeply unfair.
You were completely unaware of what you were doing to him.
To you, these dresses were normal.
To Robb Stark, who had spent most of his life surrounded by wool and fur and practical Northern modesty, this felt like warfare.
You touched one of the embroidered straps lightly. āThis one was for summer feasts.ā
āMm.ā
āYouāre not listening anymore.ā
āIām trying.ā
āYouāve failed.ā
Completely.
You laughed again and turned to grab another gown, only for Robbās hand to catch lightly around your wrist before you could disappear behind the screen again.
You glanced back at him.
His eyes flicked over the dress once more before settling reluctantly on your face.
āI think,ā he said carefully, āthat perhaps the North has been depriving me.ā
Your smile turned softer at the edges.
āOh?ā
āI did not realise Southern fashion involved so little actual fabric.ā
āIt involves confidence.ā
āIt involves distraction.ā
āYou dislike it, then?ā
Robb looked at you for a long moment.
āI think if you walked into court wearing that, none of my bannermen would hear a single word I said ever again.ā
You laughed so suddenly you nearly doubled over.
And Robb found himself laughing too, mostly because he loved hearing that sound from you again.
The room no longer felt sad now.
It felt warm.
Like maybe a little piece of Highgarden had finally reached Winterfell after all.
You squeezed his hand lightly. āPerhaps we should take a trip South someday.ā
Robbās eyes drifted once more to the silk wrapped around your waist.
āYes,ā he said immediately.
Far too quickly.
Your eyebrows lifted knowingly.
And for the first time all evening, Robb Stark looked genuinely embarrassed.
modern!theon would absolutely love to spoil black!reader, you want to go to the beauty supply store done, stay up till midnight trying to remake your mother peach cobbler done, taking you and your friends out to any fast food place thatās still open at 2am cause you said so done.
only thing this man canāt get behind is braider prices, screw the iron and gold price, no braids should be costing $400 dollars. This man went to YouTube university, got himself a mannequin head and trained. It took three months, and nineteen breakdowns, but this man was doing smedium ankle length individuals.
this man doesnāt hold his tongue when he thinks you picked a hair color that looks bad, but is quick to say āif you like it I love it.ā eats his words cause you look amazing in every color
the modern!Starks that come into Theonās room aka the basement/laundry room have walked into the arguments about which show or movie yāall should watch when heās doing your hair because āno Theon we donāt want to rewatch Community for the 20th time.ā
between archery classes and doing your hair he going to have arthritis by the time he hit thirty⦠but to modern!theon it all worth it for black!readerās smileļæ¼
Summary: Ray recovers from a rough night, and sees a bumblebee with Pete. Lottie challenges someone. The Garraty parents meet Lottie!
Click here for previous chapter
Word Count: 15, 503
Warnings / Tags: description of injury, name - calling, gavries, strong language, sexual shame, mention of erotica, brief mention of a childās death, fluff, brief mention of nudity (kinda tame chapter, actually)!
It should also be noted that this fic takes place in the year leading up to the movie. It is, for the most part, a prequel.
A/N: I have no idea how I ended up blabbing so much on this chapter⦠Iām so sorry (ą²”āøą²”) anyway, next chapter will definitely be much darker than this one. Donāt forget to comment, Reblog and like! It motivates me! Also, Iām sorry if this chapter took too long to release. Iām back in school TvT
Ray Garraty would not admit it, but he stared at Lottie Greenās scar a lot. It wasnāt in a disgusted, repulsed way ā never that ā but he had just been so damn curious on how it came to be. It was, to him, beautiful and abstract. He would always know it was Lottieās. It was a part of her. Yes, that is Lottieās scar, and Lottie is the love of my life, and I know itās hers. Heād never do it while she was looking, though. Always when she was turned away from him; he noticed that if you looked closely enough, it went on for longer. The noticeable part was at her cheek, but it kept going, thinning and thinning until it got to her collarbone. Then it would disappear, dissolve like a dream, under her clothes ā even though sheād worn the bikini beside the lake that day, sheād been hugging herself so much that no one had really seen the severity of it all.
Peter McVriesā scar was very similar to Lottieās, but to Ray, it looked like it was made with intent. Lottieās looked wilder and unplanned, but Peteās was precise. Almost clinical. That was the one thing that separated and united the two, and it came in the form of a scar. He did not know how long Peteās scar went on for, because he had not seen Pete naked, or without a shirt. He knew how long Lottieās went on for, however. He knew the severity, all the grooves and edges, how it felt under your thumb. Heād seen it all. The reason is clear.
***
Ray blinked sleepily as he walked beside Pete, the morning looking hopeful. Lord knows he needed a hopeful morning after last night.
The rising sun, orange and calming, reminded Ray of the way the sun had looked the morning after that night. The night he did not want to remember, the night with her, and he shook his head to try and forget it, forget it all. But he knew he couldnāt. Trying to forget Charlotte was like trying to forget how to ride a bike. The absurd comparison made Ray laugh out loud then, and Pete gave him a look.
āSomethinā funny, Ray?ā He asked, smiling. Ray smiled back, shaking his head.
āUh, itās nothing, Pete. Just been thinking, is all.ā Ray shrugged, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes. He was feeling tired. He wasnāt sure if heād walked off all his warnings, though. He couldnāt slow down, Pete had told him.
He had not looked at or heard a word from Harkness, or many of the other boys. They were all walking like zombies. Hank, overhead, had a glazed look in his eyes ā his tongue stuck out slightly, and it looked dead. Gone was the teasing boy from last night; Hank was not talking to anyone. Ray wondered what he was thinking about.
āHey!ā A shrill voice broke through the quiet, and some of the boys looked up, curious. It was a girl, with some of her friends, by the roadside. She was waving.
āI thought spectators werenāt allowed.ā Tressler, a boy Ray hadnāt spoken to much, muttered. He brushed his dreadlocks behind his ear, squinting at the girl.
āI told you all already, theyāre allowed if itās their hometown, crowding wonāt come till later,ā Stebbins said stoically, and Ray rolled his eyes. Pete scoffed. āYou all donāt listen.ā
āHey, why donāt you stuff it, know - it - all?ā Ray spat bitterly, last nightās events still taking a toll. āSpeaking like youāre better than all of us.ā
Stebbins simply smirked to himself. Ray felt like strangling him. In order to not feel this way, he lazily looked at her too, as did Pete. She was pretty, and was with a couple of friends, boys and girls alike. She looked their age, eighteen or so. Ray cringed when he saw her sign: āGo Go Garraty: Maineās Own.ā
āThis one doesnāt look fourteen, huh?ā Collie said teasingly, trying and failing to lift the mood. When no one laughed, he rolled his eyes and sighed. āJust trying to ease the fuckinā tension.ā
Ray raised a hand in a wave to the girl, and she and her friends made noises of excitement. One of the girls next to her whispered in her ear, and she nodded before looking back at Ray and smiling ā with a surprisingly swift flourish, she lifted up her shirt and flashed the boys.
āOh, Jesus fuck.ā Ray turned and shielded his eyes, face burning as the boys around him whooped and wolf - whistled, someone yelling that she should ācall him if he won.ā He only heard Pete let out an amused chuckle ā a camera flash went off, and he was sure it was Barkovitch.
āWhoo!ā Barkovitch said as the cheers died down and theyād made some distance from the girlās group. āNow that woke me up.ā
āI was hopinā that sonofabitch never woke up.ā Pete muttered, shaking his head as Ray looked up again. āThat excite you, Ray?ā
Ray stared at Pete. āNo, not really. Only one pair of those truly have, and theyāre all the way back in Porterville.ā
āHmm.ā Pete hummed. Rayās eyes flickered to Peteās chest.
āMaybe two.ā he elaborated, before looking away. Pete coughed then, flustered ā Ray didnāt speak on the subject further.
***
A bee had been hovering around the group of boys for about ten minutes, and Ray didnāt like it. He didnāt like bumblebees. There was a specific reason as to why, but he didnāt really want to go into that.
āWhatās your favorite fruit, Pete?ā Ray asked then, bored. Pete had been whistling. Ray wasnāt sure if heād seen the bumblebee, or heard the question. āHey. Pete.ā
Pete stopped whistling, doing a little skip before looking at Ray. āHm?ā
āWhatās your favorite fruit?ā
āWhat, you asking him that because youāre both fruits?ā Barkovitch butted in, and Ray felt like punching him. āBecause youāre both faāā
Barkovitch tripped then, and that robotic voice from the halftracks called out again.
āWarning, warning number 5.ā
āIt was a fuckinā mistake, dickwads!ā Barkovitch yelled at the soldiers, and Pete smirked.
āJust trip two more times,ā he started, all sing - song. āAnd youāll make my day, Barkovitch.ā
āYou shut up!ā Barkovitch pointed a shaking finger at Pete, who simply stared back at him with contempt. āYou ā you āā
āStutter any more, weāll think youāre an invalid,ā Stebbins said, and Barkovitch flipped him off before storming forward. Both Pete and Ray laughed, before Pete turned to Ray.
āMy favorite fruit, huh?ā He said thoughtfully. Ray nodded. āIād say⦠apples.ā
āGood choice,ā Ray yawned, blinking rapidly. He was trying not to fall asleep. āTalk to me Pete, Iām⦠fuck, Iām tired.ā
This had been the second time Ray had asked Pete to keep him awake today ā the first being when Pete asked him if he thought heād survive the Walk. Ray had answered no, but deep down, he also didnāt want to. He needed to, he knew, butā¦
He did not want to burden Lottie with ever having to see him again.
āWhatās your favorite fruit, then?ā Pete asked, wrapping an arm around Rayās shoulder. Ray felt those sparks again. āWhat fruit would you have now, if you wished?ā
Ray thought for a long moment. He thought of summer. He thought of baseball, he thought of a first date. He then smiled.
āWatermelon.ā He answered finally, mouth watering. āChrist, Pete, what Iād do for some cold watermelon right now.ā He thought of biting into the soft flesh of it, the cool water running down his neck, parching his thirstiness, Lottie laughing as she cut him another slice.
āOh, Garraty, donāt make me thirsty now,ā Collie grumbled, casting a glance back. Ray laughed, uninhibited.
āSorry, man.ā
Just then, the bumblebee that had been circling the boys flew down. Ray, alarmed, almost swatted at it. Pete smacked him gently over the head.
āOw.ā
āItās a fuckinā bumblebee, man,ā Pete shook his head at Ray, just as it landed on his nose. Pete then smiled at it, his eyes crinkling. Ray, whoād been rubbing his head, stopped ā Pete looked beautiful. Handsome. Whichever one.
āLook at it,ā Pete said softly. āIt aināt trying to hurt nobody.ā
Ray swallowed. His face was burning again. The bee then buzzed softly as it moved from Peteās nose to his index finger, settling and beating its wings slowly. Pete whistled to it.
āBe free, bumblebee.ā He said softly. The bee got up then, hovering around Peteās head as if saying goodbye, and then flew off. Ray stared at it leave, watching until it turned to a tiny pinprick ā and began to think of why he didnāt like it in the first place. Who it reminded him of.
***
Lottie lay in the grass of the field, feeling the sun beat down on her heavily as she squinted her eyes at the blue sky. Not a cloud could be seen. Cicadas chirped as she heard the sound of thudding footsteps, all around. Cigarette smoke wafted into her line of view, momentarily fogging up her view of the sky.
She was wearing a tank top and her daisy dukes. She had no sandals on her feet, she could feel the dirt under her soles.
It was a Friday. It was the last day of school, first day of summer break. She, Max, Alex, Bobby, Ray and a bunch of other kids had decided to loiter around the town green to relax ā Lottieās date with Ray was tomorrow evening. She still hadnāt figured out where he was going to take her. Heād been terribly vague about it.
āMax,ā Alex coughed, and Lottie rolled her head to the side, watching him as he waved Maxineās cigarette smoke out of his face. He was wearing a light t - shirt, and trousers. āMax, can you fucking smoke that somewhere else?ā
āNo.ā Max replied swiftly, taking in another drag and leaning on Lottieās drawn up legs. āYou can move somewhere else. Lottie isnāt complaining.ā
āActually, yeah, I am.ā Lottie corrected, sitting up ā her Afro had blades of grass stuck in, and she shook it. āYouāre going to make me smoke involuntarily, Max.ā
āOh, shut up, youāve smoked before.ā Max rolled her eyes, before nudging Bobby ā he had his nose buried in a textbook about the minerals found in rocks. āBobby. Hey.ā
Bobby still read his textbook. Max furrowed her brow when he didnāt respond, nudging him again. āHey. Bobert.ā
Bobby snapped the book shut as Lottie giggled. āMy name is not Bobert.ā He said, monotone. āDo not call me that.ā
āYes it is,ā Alex shot back lazily, squinting at the boys messing around in the distance. āLottie, if you didnāt know, thatās his full name. Bobert Bartholomew Banker.ā
The group started to cackle as Bobbyās face turned red. āCharlotte, he is lying. My name is not ā not āā
āHey, it canāt be worse than Raymond.ā Ray had walked up to the group then, in a shirt and shorts and sandals, and Lottieās face burned as he sat among them. His hair was ruffled, and his cheeks were rosy ā his freckles were dotted across his face like a constellation. Ever since Lottie had told him she loved him, Ray Garraty had been in an almost perpetual state of glee, far removed from the gloomy boy heād been a month ago. Max had remarked many times to Lottie, snickering, that he looked stupid. Lottie had scowled at her.
Alex nodded his greetings to Ray, and Bobby muttered a thanks. Max simply shrugged.
āSo,ā Alex started, after smacking Maxās cigarette out of her hand ā she gave him the finger as he looked around the rest of the group. āWhoās up for a game of baseball? Iām bored, and the guys over there are definitely up for it.ā
Lottie tapped her chin, thinking about it as Ray perked up. āI donāt know, Alex, itās been a while since Iāve played.ā
āYou play baseball?ā Ray asked, raising his eyebrows at Lottie. She nodded.
āYeah! I used to play it with my brothers when I was little,ā she started, reminiscing ā Ray furrowed his brow.
āBrothers?ā He asked, confused. āYou have siblings other than Robert?ā
Lottie stilled then, looking embarrassed.
āYeah, I thought you only had one.ā Alex added, and Max looked at Lottie closely. She let out some nervous laughter.
āDid I say brothers?ā She said then, her voice getting higher before she cleared her throat. āI meant brother. Robert. Just him. Um.ā
āRight,ā Max agreed briskly, letting the moment pass. āSo. Whoās going to play first?ā
Ray was not listening to her. He was staring at Lottie ā Lottie, who had suddenly become very interested in her hands. She was fiddling with her fingers, and not looking at anybody.
āRay?ā Max asked, after a long moment. Ray didnāt respond, still staring at Lottie, who wasnāt looking at anybody. āHey. Ray.ā
Did Lottie have another sibling he didnāt know about? How many things was she hiding?
āRay!ā Max yelled, and Ray startled, finally paying attention. The rest of the group were staring at him. āYou gonna play?ā
āWhat?ā
āBaseball.ā Lottie said, a little firmly. āShe was asking if youād play.ā
āYeah, uhā¦ā Ray gave Lottie a āwhat was thatā look, but she simply shook her head, and he held off. She didnāt look like she wanted to talk about it. Whatever āitā was.
āā¦Iāll play.ā Ray finally agreed, still looking at Lottie, who was now not looking back at him. āYeah. Uh ā Lottie?ā
āSheāll stay back.ā Max butted in, before Lottie could speak up. āYou boys can go.ā
āBut I do not want to playā ā Bobby started, and Max shot him a look.
āI said,ā she started with gritted teeth. You boys can go.ā
Bobby got the message and left with Alex and Ray, the latter still looking at Lottie as he left. When they had made some distance and were out in the field, Max turned to Lottie ā Lottie hoped she wouldnāt start asking why she was acting weird.
āWe, my friend, need to have a chat.ā Max started.
āA chat?ā Lottie replied, not meeting her eye. āMax, we always chat.ā
āYeah, but I need to talk to you about something important.ā
Lottie blinked. āWhat?ā
Max grinned at her then, and started to rummage in her bag. As she did, Lottie looked at her closely; her red hair, her freckles, her effortless charm. She would not say it out loud ā but she was grateful Max had become her friend. She was funny and smart, and certainly brightened up Lottieās days, using their free time together to go and hide out in a meadow and talk about nothing.
āYouāre a writer?ā Max had said one of these times, looking up at the trees with Lottie. āSeriously?ā She rolled to her side, looking directly at her. āWrite about me.ā
Lottie had laughed behind her hand, unable to keep eye contact with Max for long. āThatās not how it works.ā
āSure it is.ā Max had shrugged, sitting up. āJust write about the⦠ah, what do teachers call me ā yes, the unruly one.ā
Lottie shook her head, smiling. āYouāre more than that, Max, more than that.ā
āJust lie.ā Max said, leaning in and squinting at Lottieās face. āGlorify me. Make me⦠revolutionary.ā
Lottie had then laughed and pushed her face away. But despite everything, she knew Max didnāt always like being referred to as the unruly one. She never asked about it, because she knew Max, with all her wily ways, would not want to talk about it. The same way she didnāt like talking about her father, or why she made a face whenever Lottie asked about him.
āAha!ā Max said suddenly, drawing Lottie out of her train of thought. She pulled out a book. āI found it.ā
Lottie was about to ask what āitā was, just as there was a whoop from the field, some yards away from them. Ray, who had taken the position of pitcher, had caught the baseball in his mitt. He seemed to have fallen backward, his arm sticking up in quiet triumph as the other boys cheered. Lottie covered her mouth, laughing.
āSweet, huh?ā Max asked, watching as Ray sat up all red - faced and grinning, before waving at Lottie. She waved back eagerly. āYou two going out yet?ā
āWhat?ā Lottie replied, her voice a bit higher. Max arched a brow, and she cleared her throat. āU - uh, yeah ā weāre not a⦠weāre not a thing yet, but he did ask me out.ā
āHm.ā Max hummed, looking thoughtful. āPerfect. Then I can show you this.ā
āShow me what?ā Lottie asked, just before Max handed her a book. The cover was black. āā¦whatās this?ā
āHard - core erotica.ā Max deadpanned. Lottie blinked.
āHard - core what now?ā
Max sighed, rubbing her face. āPorno, Lottie.ā
Lottieās face warmed as she promptly dropped the book onto the grass. āā¦what?ā
āYouāll need it.ā Max shrugged, putting it back in Lottieās hands ā she dropped it once more, letting out a terrified wince. Max arched a brow.
āWhatās wrong with you?ā
āWhatās wrong with me?!ā Lottie hissed, blushing furiously. āWhatās wrong with you?! Bringing that ā thinking I would ā that I and Ray āā
āBecause you will, eventually,ā Max replied simply, amused at Lottieās reaction. āAnd I donāt want you to just⦠lie there. How youāll feel is important too.ā
āIām NOT having āā Lottie lowered her voice, looking around like someone was listening in. āā¦intercourse with Ray.ā
āItās called sex.ā Max deadpanned, and Lottie close to gasped. āYou can say sex, you know. There are different terms: Fuckinā. Screwing. Banging. Popping the cherry āā
āMaxine!ā Lottie hissed, so hot in the face she felt like sweating even more than she already was. āItās against the Bible for me, you know that ā ā
āLots of things are against the Bible, but you still do it,ā Max shrugged. āYou werenāt taking that church service very seriously. And you smoked.ā
āShut up.ā Lottie huffed, looking away as Max slid the book toward her. āThatās⦠different, I āā
āTake it.ā Max pressed, and Lottie looked directly at her. āItās not illegal. Just⦠have a bit of fun. Donāt be frigid.ā
āIām not stiff!ā
āYou know the frigid I mean.ā Max elaborated. Lottie was about to reply when another shout was heard from the field. They looked over once more, and Alex seemed to be rolling his shoulders and gripping the bat. His muscles glistened with sweat in the sun, and a group of girls giggled as he prepared to bat. Ray, who was sweating through his shirt now, was looking at him in concentration. Lottie stared at him, his squinty eyes, and felt a flutter in her chest.
āOkay.ā Bobby said meekly, crouching behind Alex and the home plate. He was the catcher. āYou may give Ray the signal now.ā
Alex whistled lowly, and Ray gripped the baseball, nodding to Lottie, who grinned back. He then pointed at her with his free hand.
āFor you!ā He yelled. Max rolled her eyes as Lottie giggled.
āOh my god, you two are so corny.ā Max cringed as Ray reared his arm back, hurling the baseball as hard as possible. It made a high arc in the blue sky, and some people cheered, including Lottie ā she stood up, cupping her hands around her mouth and whooping. Ray turned to her then, grinning ā he didnāt notice Alex batting back the baseball, hard. Lottieās face fell as it rushed back towards Ray, at full speed.
āRay!ā She yelled, waving her arms. āJumper, look out ā !ā
āWhat?!ā Ray yelled back, not hearing Lottie clearly. Lottie was about to yell back when the baseball hit Ray in the side of the face ā he stumbled backward and fell, clutching his cheek.
āOh,ā Max winced, as Lottie began to run over. āThatās gotta hurt.ā
āRay!ā She yelled, as a group of people laughed hysterically. Ray was groaning on the ground, and Max was running behind Lottie. Alex had dropped his bat, Bobby tottering behind him as the group closed in. Rayās vision was spinning as he lay on the ground spread - eagled, staring up at the blue sky. He tasted blood. Fuck. Something in his mouth felt loose.
āRay!ā He heard Lottieās voice as she crashed to her knees beside him, all wide - eyed and worried. āRaymond, can you hear me?ā
Ray giggled, a bubble of blood forming at his mouth and popping. Lottie let out a noise of despair and surprise upon seeing the blood, and Max made a face. Alex winced, and Bobby blinked.
āHe is hurt.ā Bobby said, and Lottie whirled to him.
āWell of course heās hurt, Bobby ā ah, fuck me.ā She hissed, looking over Rayās face. Ray was seeing in all fours ā he blinked slowly.
āGladly.ā He slurred. Lottie smacked his shoulder, seemed to remember that he was hurt, and then started fretting again.
āWe need some ice,ā she said, her hand on the side of Rayās face. āHeāll start swellinā up soon.ā
āRay, man, Iām so sorry.ā Alex said, pale.
āāS okay,ā Ray replied, before Alex nodded and ran off to find ice.
āGarraty, how many fingers am I holding up?ā Max said, holding her middle finger to Rayās eyes. Lottie smacked her hand away, scowling.
āMax! Now is not the time!ā
āJust trying to ease the tension.ā Max shrugged, as Lottie looked back at Ray.
āJumper, open your mouth.ā
āWhy?ā
āJust do it!ā
āWhatever you say, sweetheart.ā Ray giggled again, more blood bubbling. Lottie shook her head as he opened his mouth ā she almost heaved when she saw the amount of blood. A tooth in the back of his mouth was hanging by a strip of gum, knocked loose by the baseball.
āWhat is it?ā Ray said groggily. āMy teeth that ugly?ā
āYour molar appears to have been knocked loose.ā Bobby commented. āWe will need to extract ā ā
Lottie let out a short scream as Ray reached into his mouth and tugged the tooth off the string of gum, letting out a shout of pain before turning away and spitting it onto the grass.
āProblem solved,ā Ray said shakily, spitting out blood as Alex came running back with ice. āGo go Garraty.ā
Alex handed Lottie the bag of ice, and she pressed it against where Ray had been hit, before dragging Bobby away with him so they could get some water. Lottie tutted and mumbled sweet nothings to Ray that he could barely hear; he blinked slowly up at her.
Youāll be alright, Ray. Why didnāt you look out for the ball, idiot. You could have a fracture, for all we know ā you need to be more careful, Garraty what will your mother think. Youāre going to give me a fuckinā heart attack, jumper. Idiot. Stupid stupid stupid. Hold still.
Among the many mutterings of Lottie Green, Ray saw a little bumblebee hovering above the group. It was buzzing in circles. His eyes followed it around, delirious. He huffed when he saw it descending to the groupās level ā soon it would settle on Lottie.
āLottie.ā He mumbled. āCharlotte.ā
āWhat?ā Charlotte said, almost desperately. āAm I hurtinā you?ā
āBumblebee.ā He whispered.
āWhat?ā Lottie said, momentarily confused ā her expression softened as she saw the bumblebee settle on her shoulder. āOh.ā She breathed. Ray furrowed his brow before swatting at it. It buzzed out of his reach, and Lottie hit his hand.
āOw!ā He hissed.
āBumblebees mean good fortune, you stupid āā Lottie rolled her eyes as Max started to laugh. āHold still!ā
The bumblebee then settled on Lottieās other shoulder, and Ray swatted at it again.
āRay!ā Lottie hissed. āStop!ā
āāS gonna sting you.ā Ray paused. āWhyād you say brothers earlier instead of brother?ā
āWhy donāt you shut up and focus on staying awake?ā Max replied swiftly, just as the bumblebee moved to Rayās nose. He made to swat at it, but Lottie caught his hand. Smaller than his, but more deft and smooth. Ray was all rough edges. Lottie was all cookie dough.
āLeave the bee.ā Lottie said firmly. āIt doesnāt mean any harm.ā
āItāll fucking sting me.ā Ray replied, looking cross - eyed as he tried to stare at the bee on his nose.
āI think bumblebees are sweet.ā Lottie replied fairly, still pressing the ice into Rayās cheek.
āOh yeah?ā Ray huffed out a laugh, wincing at the pain as he slowly came back to his senses. āWhyās that?ā
Lottieās eyes flicked to his momentarily, before furrowing her brow and focusing back on Rayās bruise.
āThey remind me of you.ā She said quietly. āAll soft. Round. Big brown eyes, sweet.ā
Ray didnāt respond to Lottie for a long time. He simply stared at her. Lottie, thinking he was unconscious, looked back at him. She startled ā his pupils were dilated. His pupils were dilated and he was looking up at her like sheād hung the sun.
āHey, Garraty,ā Max said, squinting at Rayās face. āAre you on drugs?ā
Ray didnāt respond. Lottieās hands got sweaty, the grass blades beneath her knees making her body itch. She couldnāt keep eye contact with Ray.
āStop that.ā She muttered.
āStop what?ā Ray replied softly. āStaring?ā
āYes.ā
āHm. I donāt think I will.ā
Lottie was about to reply when she heard an all - too familiar voice from afar ā it was amongst the people who were laughing. Narrowing her eyes, she looked behind them.
āThe motherfucker canāt even catch!ā The loud, proud voice of Ben Miller boomed. He was laughing with his cronies, tears in his eyes. āNow heās got his little girlfriend poring over him ā what a fucking sissy!ā
āIs that the fucker I punched last time?ā Ray asked drowsily, as Lottie scowled. Max narrowed her eyes at Ben, giving him the finger.
āYeah, thatās all you can fucking do, Maxine!ā Ben yelled back at her, and Lottie gripped the ice harder. āTell Garraty to be a better pitcher next time! I know his bitch can hear me!ā
Lottie suddenly got up; the pack of ice still in her hands. Max furrowed her brow as she shoved the ice into her arms.
āWhat are you āā
āStay here, press the ice on Ray .ā Lottie replied through gritted teeth, as Ray sat up. She started to storm towards Ben.
āLottie?ā Ray called after her. He noticed the bumblebee was still hovering around her. āWhereāre you going?ā
She ignored him, grabbing the baseball bat from some other kid, who protested feebly. She then walked straight up to Ben, who whistled lowly.
āGot a problem, Green?ā He asked, and his friends laughed, some nervously.
āListen here, Miller.ā Lottie jabbed a finger into Benās chest. āSince you think youāre such a professional at baseball, come be a pitcher.ā
Ben blinked at Lottie, before laughing. āWho the fuck do you think you are, Green?ā
āDefinitely not anybodyās bitch.ā Lottie spat; some people blinked in surprise. Lottie was rarely known to be aggressive. There was a long moment of silence where Ben and Lottie stared at each other ā then Ben simply laughed, beckoning for someoneās mitt. A timid looking girl handed it to him.
āAs you like it.ā He said, keeping eye contact with Lottie. āLetās get it on, Scarface.ā
Lottie shouldered past him, before going to stand at the home plate. Bobby and Alex had come back to the field with water for Ray, and Lottie narrowed her eyes at Bobby.
āBobby!ā She yelled. Both Bobby and Alex stilled, confused as to why Lottie was at the home plate and Ben on the other side. āCome be my catcher!ā
āBut Raymond is in need of the ā ā
āGive the water to Alex and come over, NOW!ā
Bobby nodded, stuffing the water into Alexās arms, jogging lightly and taking a mitt before kneeling behind Lottie. Ben was at the other side, mitt on his hand and a readiness in his eye.
āYou get three strikes, three chances!ā A girl yelled, and Lottie rolled her eyes, gripping the bat. āThree strikes without batting, and youāre out!ā Bobby, who was still crouching behind Lottie, whimpered in fear, his skinny arms trembling.
āBobby, you a good catcher?ā She muttered, glancing back at him. He looked up at her with terror before shaking his head slowly. Lottie gave him a look of confusion. āBut ā when Alex was battināā¦ā
āI know Alex is an extremely accomplished batter,ā Bobby said matter - of - factly, his voice trembling. āBut I do not know if you are. I have never seen you play⦠the ball may hit me.ā
āWell thank you, Bobert.ā Lottie humphed, offended. Bobby raised a shaking finger.
āMy name is not Bob āā
Lottie whistled loudly, giving the signal for Ben to pitch. She dug her heels into the dirt as Ben readied himself, smirking. Despite Maxās protests, Ray had sat up to watch, leaning forward eagerly as Lottie gripped the bat.
āGarraty, you could have a concussion.ā she started, grumbling. Ray ignored her, eyes trained on Lottie.
Ben reared back and pitched, and Lottieās eyes locked onto the oncoming baseball. It zipped toward her, and she heard the voice of Anthony in her mind:
āRemember to put your back into it, Lottie,ā heād said to her, all those years ago. āItās all in the hips, too. Swing with strength. Grit. Steel āā
āStrike one!ā The girl off - pitch yelled, and Lottie let out a disbelieving breath as she swung and missed, Bobby catching the baseball behind her with a surprising swiftness.
āFuck.ā She hissed, as Ben laughed.
āAll bark and no bite, huh?!ā He yelled, and some guys cackled with laughter. Lottieās face grew hot with embarrassment. Bobby, noticing her falter, cleared his throat meekly.
āThere are still two more chances.ā He offered, and Lottie pursed her lips.
Once Ben had gotten the ball back, Lottie closed her eyes, remembering Anthonyās advice when she was eight. He had a bat in his hands, demonstrating the Green familyās signature swing. He loved baseball, as their father had, and apparently the father before that. Lottie didnāt care for it much ā but sheād shown an interest because her brother and Pa did.
āYou swing like this,ā heād done it slowly, gracefully, gripping the bat in just the right way ā Lottie opened her eyes, and whistled the signal for Ben to pitch. He reared back once more, throwing it with a grunt; as it flew in an arc, Lottie felt she could bat this one, that sheād prove him wrong ā closer, closerā¦
āYeah, bat this, Scarface!ā Ben yelled suddenly ā Lottieās concentration was hindered.
āFuck!ā She said shakily, swinging and missing, letting the baseball zip right into Bobbyās trusty mitt. Ben pumped his fist, and Lottie close to dropped her bat, kicking a nearby pebble in frustration. āFUCK!ā
Bobby blinked at her as she paced, still gripping her bat, looking like sheād hit someone with it any minute. āYou do not usually get this agitated. It seems Benās low - life attitude has emotionally affected your skill.ā
āBobby!ā Lottie yelled, close to tearing her hair out. āWhy do you ā can you just āā
āTwo strikes!ā The girl off - pitch yelled, and Lottie felt like screaming.
āHey!ā A voice yelled, and Lottie looked over to see Ray standing next to Max, holding the ice pack to his cheek. Max looked fed - up with trying to get him to sit down, and hopped next to him, waving her arms in encouragement.
āWhat?ā Lottie whispered stupidly. āIs that ā Raymond, SIT DOWN!ā
āNo!ā He yelled back, as Ben got another ball. āYou can do this! Remember the bee? Good luck!ā
Lottie shook her head, close to laughing ā it was then that she saw the bumblebee hovering above her head. It looked almost sentinel - like. She stared up at it for a long moment. Then she looked back at Ben, who was clutching the baseball with a readiness.
āI advise you listen to Ray.ā Bobby said behind Lottie, and she shook her head, trying not to laugh. āDo not let Benjamin win.ā
āOkay.ā she replied, and Bobby nodded as he got back into position. Lottie took a deep breath, eyes flicking to the bee once more. It settled onto her shoulder. Anthonyās voice entered her head.
āThe most important part,ā his voice reverberated in her skull as she whistled the signal and Ben reared back. āIs to believe in yourself. Take that risk, and bat the ball, with all your strength.ā
The baseball flew in that high arc once more, and Lottie concentrated on it.
āRear back,ā Anthonyās voice guided, as it zoomed closer, whistling. āAnd swing.ā
And she fucking swung.
There was a sharp crack as Lottieās bat met the ball ā she let out a grunt of effort as it ricocheted back, tearing forward between the lines, fast enough that people ducked before they realized where it was going. Ben, who had expected her to miss and wasnāt paying attention, let out a yell of surprise as the baseball zipped past his cheek, grazing it.
āYES!ā Ray yelled, pumping his fist as Lottie ran counter clockwise, around the three bases, and back to the home plate. Max whooped and the other kids cheered, and Lottie collapsed at home plate. āFucking YES! Thatās my lady, suckers!ā
āNo, sheās not.ā Max patted Rayās back as he cheered.
āAtta girl.ā Anthonyās voice echoed in her head, and Lottie let out a disbelieving laugh as she lay on the ground, Bobby looking down at her, hands on his hips. He was grinning. The bee was circling his head, and Lottie watched, panting, as it buzzed off.
āI am sorry for doubting you.ā He said, monotone as Alex joined them, yelling praise. āYou are a skilled batter.ā
āāCourse I am,ā Lottie smirked, heart pounding as other kids cheered. Alex offered her a hand, and Lottie heaved herself up. She saw Ray coming with Max then, and she grinned before running to him ā he dropped the ice heād been holding to his face, enveloping her in a hug. She hugged him back, giggling.
āDidnāt know we had a professional batter here,ā he mumbled into the crook of her neck, Benās shouts of rage echoing in the background.
āYeah, well,ā Lottie drew back, brushing some hair out of Rayās face. He blushed. āCouldnāt let him say that about you. You wouldnāt, I know.ā
Ray grinned at Lottie then, about to reply ā
āFUCK!ā Ben screamed then, and the group looked over at him swatting something away. āA fucking bee stung me!ā
***
Ray Garraty checked his watch, waistcoat draped over his arm as he waited underneath Lottieās window. Crickets chirped as his foot tapped on the grass, waiting.
It was Saturday night, and he was taking Lottie out for their first date. He was nervous as hell. His palms kept sweating, but he was grateful it wasnāt his pits like the first time heād gone to see Lottie in her family store, and he reckoned that sweaty palms were better than sweaty pits ā
He really should stop thinking about being sweaty.
Ray then straightened out his shirt ā heād dressed up relatively nice; wearing another one of his dadās old suits, the one William had worn at he and Ginnieās wedding reception twenty or so years ago. Itād taken a while to launder, and it was a deep burgundy. Heād had to borrow his momās perfume because his dadās cologne was finished, and he smelled like flowers. If Ben was still friends with him, heād call Ray a sissy for it.
Ray was glad they werenāt friends anymore.
Ginnie had helped style his hair, and it wasnāt all messy like it usually was (no more cursed cowlick)! Now, it was a simple side - part, and Ray wore a simple black tie, with his simple linen shirt and simple suspenders. All simple. His mouth was still a little sore from having his tooth knocked out yesterday (His mom had fussed over him and sent him to the dentist to see if there was anything else to be done), but other than that, Ray was fine. He still felt tingly remembering Lottie pressing the ice to his cheek. A bandage rested there. The baseball had bruised it. Even though Ray was a big boy, the pants he wore felt bigger than he was. He felt stupid, and giddy.
He checked his watch again. 7:45. They were supposed to leave at eight, but Ray would probably wait till twelve. Heād wait as long as possible, for her.
Suddenly, the quiet of the night was pierced ā Ray looked up at Lottieās window as it was pushed open. Even though the house was only one story high, the crawl space underneath elevated it significantly. Ray wondered how Lottie had managed to jump out her window the night of his party.
He grinned as Lottieās head popped out. Her face, even in the yellow glow of the streetlights, was radiant and round and pretty. She beamed down at him, her pearl earrings dangling.
āHi, Raymond.ā She whispered softly, drawing out Rayās name. He blushed.
āHi, Charlotte.ā He whispered back. She clapped a hand to her mouth, giggling. āYou want me to help you down?ā
Lottie looked back in her room before looking down at Ray. āYou sure? I think Iām a bit heavy.ā
Ray shrugged. āI can handle a lot of weight.ā
āHa - ha, Ray,ā Lottie said, shaking her head before dropping her handbag. Ray caught it before beckoning for her to drop whatever else she had. Lottie hesitated before dropping her pair of pumps, which were a rosy red. Ray caught these too, almost dropping them himself. Lottie laughed before settling on the windowsill. Ray set her heels on the floor, before setting down his waistcoat and opening his arms. Lottie cocked a brow.
āMove, jumper.ā She whispered. āYouāre not gonna be able to catch me.ā
āLottie, jump.ā
āMove.ā
āIāll catch you, I promise, sweetheart ā just jump.ā
āIām not going to ā donāt call me that.ā Lottieās face burned, struggling not to laugh. She didnāt want to alert her family to her sneaking out. She looked back into her dark room, and didnāt hear any footsteps. āJust let me jump down.ā
āThatās no way to treat a lady.ā Ray shrugged, and Lottie rolled her eyes. āCome on, Lottie, fall into my arms.ā
āLower your voice!ā Lottie hissed ā she close to screamed when she saw Ray smirk. She knew that smirk. āRaymond, donāt āā
āWHAT?!ā Ray said loudly, and Lottie shook her hands in a quiet panic, pressing her finger to her lips repeatedly and shaking her head.
āShut up!ā She hissed. Ray gave her a mock - confused look, and she shook her head again when he took in a breath.
āNO!ā He yelled.
āRay, stop it!ā Lottie was half - amused, half - terrified ā her Pa slept like the dead, Robert didnāt. But Robert would chalk it up to be some drunk, she knew; her Ma tended to mind her business. Mostly.
āOkay, Iām sorry,ā Ray whispered now, laughing ā Lottie scowled down at him. āBaby, would you just ā please get down? I promise Iāll catch you.ā
Lottie stuck her tongue out at Ray, and he laughed into his palm ā with a sort of grace, she slid off the windowsill, and her red skirt billowed on her way down. Ray caught her with a huff and a swing, bridal - style. Her arm was draped around his shoulder, and she let out a surprised laugh, looking at the floor as Ray looked at her.
āShouldnāt have doubted you, huh?ā Lottie said softly, laughing. Ray responded by pressing a featherlight kiss to her cheek. Lottie let out a surprised giggle, swatting Ray away. āStop that.ā
āIf you say so.ā He lowered Lottie to the ground, and took her in as she put on her heels ā she had a simple ankle - length wine - red dress on, with roses patterned all over. It had a white sweetheart neckline; her hair was out in an Afro, a singular red rose tucked behind her ear. Lottie also had a natural glow about her ā sheād decided to only put on blush and lip - gloss. She smelled just like Ray, all flowery. There were white gloves on her hands. Sheād āborrowedā these from her Ma, but Ray didnāt need to know that.
āAlright,ā Lottie said as Ray grinned at her, dusting off her skirt. She held out her hand to him. āLead the wayāā
Instead of taking her hand, Ray kissed it, and she felt heat rush to her face once more. She smacked him on the shoulder. āStop that! Youāre beināāā
āA romantic?ā
āAn idiot!ā
āSame difference.ā
Lottie laughed again, and Ray grinned at her before fishing a handkerchief out of his pocket. It was the one Lottie had made him for his birthday, āProperty of Ray Garratyā sewn on the fabric.
āWhatād you bring this here for?ā Lottie asked, smiling.
āIt turns out, itās not just useful for wiping stuff,ā he started. āNot that Iāve been using it at all. Itās just so sacred to me, yāknow?ā
āHa - ha,ā Lottie said, crossing her arms. āWhat else are you usinā it for then, jumper?ā
āThis.ā He spread it out, before nodding towards Lottie. āClose your eyes, Lottie.ā
āWhatāre you doing?ā
āJust trust me, okay?ā Ray assured her, stepping closer. āItās clean, I really havenāt used it ā plus I told you the dateās a surprise.ā
Lottie cocked a brow at Ray, and he sighed. āPlease?ā
āOkay.ā She said fairly, and Ray eagerly tied the hankie around her eyes ā Lottie was completely blind now, and Ray slowly but steadily guided her by placing one hand on the small of her back. He was leading her to his fatherās car, which heād borrowed for tonight. William had been surprisingly gracious about it, winking at Ray an uncomfortable amount of times.
Ray had parked some ways away from Lottieās house (so not too far from his own house) in order to not raise Atticus and Robert Greenās suspicionsā he looked at the ground, kicking pebbles out of Lottieās path. Didnāt want her to trip.
āJust where are you taking me, Ray?ā Lottie asked, after some beats of silence.
āYouāll know when you see it, now duck your head āā Ray guided Lottie into the passengerās seat of the car, and she giggled.
āYour dad finally let you borrow his car, hm?ā Lottie asked, as Ray shut her door.
āYes!ā He called back, running to the other side. āTook a lot of convincing ā !ā
Lottie shook her head, groping blindly for the child lock on the driverās door so Ray could get in. She got a hold of it, pulling on the lock firmly as Ray made his way there.
āUnlocked it for you,ā Lottie said, sitting back in her seat as he huffed. Ray fell quiet. āYou okay?ā
āYeah, uh,ā he grinned to himself as he opened the car door. āJust thought of a test.ā
āWhat type of test?ā Lottie asked, as Ray started the car.
āA door test.ā
āWhat?ā
āDonāt worry about it.ā
***
They had been driving for around thirty minutes, talking about nothing and everything ā Ray was still giddy over Lottieās baseball fiasco with Ben, and Lottie was being much too humble about it.
āI mean,ā Ray continued breathlessly, eyes on the road and one hand on the wheel as Lottie laughed. There was gospel music playing on the radio. āWhere did you even learn to bat like that?ā
āI told you, my brother taught me when I was younger,ā Lottie said, still giggling. āHe had ā has ā a knack for these things.ā
āI had no idea Robert was so good at baseball,ā Ray continued, turning onto another road. āHeās gotta teach me one of these days. If he ever warms up to me.ā
āYeah,ā Lottie replied, her smile becoming a little hollow. She hated lying. āRobert.ā
The way she said it made Ray look away from the road and to Lottieās face for a second, furrowing his brow; yet again he was reminded of Lottieās ābrothersā slip - up earlier. As time passed, he was becoming less and less sure it was a slip - up, that maybe it was something more.
That maybe she was hiding something from him.
Besides. He still didnāt know how sheād gotten that scar ā but he didnāt press, for now.
āRay?ā She asked, after a few beats. āWe there yet?ā
āWhat?ā He spluttered, before looking back on the road. They were a little out of town now. āO - oh ā yeah, weāre almost there.ā
āGood, I think my legās goinā to get a crampā¦ā she massaged her thigh. āI donāt like sittinā for long.ā
āIām sorry, I promise we wonāt be long, butā¦ā Ray shot her a glance. āI forgot to ask you, how was your day? Whatād you do?ā
Lottieās face warmed. āOh, I was just⦠readinā.ā
āCouldāve guessed that,ā Ray replied, and Lottie smacked his shoulder playfully. āWhat book was it?ā
It was then that Lottie cleared her throat, turning the other way. āOh, just⦠stuff.ā
āHm.ā Ray furrowed his brow. āWhat type of stuff?ā
āI donāt think youād be into it.ā
āTry me.ā
āNo, I really donāt think you would.ā Lottie repeated, her voice higher.
Lottie had been reading the book Max had given her yesterday, an erotica. At first, sheād stared at it lying at the bottom of her bag, afraid to touch it, like itād brand her. Then, sheād gently placed it on her bedside table, before sitting topless and sweaty on her bed (curse the summer heat)! The air from the open window doing nothing for her. Fanning herself with an old book, sheād stared and stared at it, curiosity slowly getting the best of her ā before, with a shaking hand, she took ahold of it. Slowly, sheād opened to the first page; a foreword, then a first chapter⦠a scarlet womanā¦
āDid you at least like it?ā Ray asked, laughing lightly. Lottie was so glad he couldnāt see her eyes.
āā¦it was⦠useful.ā
The way Lottie said it made Ray look over once more, but her face was turned to the window. They finally arrived at Rayās mystery place, the car sputtering loudly to a stop, and Ray turned off the engine. āWeāre here!ā
āWherever āhereā is.ā Lottie muttered as Ray opened her door for her, pulling her out gently by the arm. She felt his strong arm wrap around her middle, and she leaned her head into his shoulder.
āFor all I know, you could be kidnappinā me.ā
āYou wound my integrity.ā Ray said, holding Lottie tighter as they walked down a small hill; the couple were out of town. Lottie hummed softly to herself as Ray led her on, the crickets providing some background noise.
āAndā¦ā Ray trailed off, finally stopping Lottie somewhere. She giggled. āIām gonna get something, come back and take off the blindfold.ā
āOkay.ā
āNo peeking.ā He pointed at her. She grinned.
āO - kay.ā She drew out the word, still chuckling, and Ray hurried off somewhere. After a few moments, Lottie heard his running footsteps return, and the sound of panting.
āOkay,ā he swallowed, still panting. āIām gonna take them off now.ā
āIf you say so.ā
Slowly, Lottie felt Ray removing the hankie from around her eyes . Gone was the wall of darkness sheād been seeing for the past half hour, replaced with ā
āOh.ā She breathed.
Ray had set up a picnic by a large pond, where ducks and swans alike swam peacefully. There were lily pads floating on the surface, and multiple weeping willow trees surrounded the clearing ā catkins fell down from them, all caterpillar - looking, but Lottie caught one in her palm nonetheless. On the picnic mat, a hamper filled with what was sure to be Ginnieās cooking sat waiting, alongside a bottle of apple cider and multiple candles ā and, marvelously, a projector. It was pointed towards a white blanket that hung from two branches of a tree, presumably to watch a movie on.
āDo you like it?ā Ray asked uneasily from behind Lottie; his voice was a bit shaky, and his previous bravado was gone. Lottie turned to him, her hand hovering over her mouth. He had a bouquet of flowers in hand, and a very nervous smile plastered on his face ā his cheeks were as pink as ever.
Oh, sweet boy.
āI wasnāt sure what types of flowers youād want, because youāre always wearing so many different ones, so uh ā I took some of my savings and my dad helped me out and I ordered fresh ones, but that wasnāt really smart, was it? Oh, fuck ā I shouldāve gotten plastic ones, these ones will die.ā
āRay.ā
āAnd I got a film, because, yāknow, I love films, and I wanted to share something I love with you, and I hope youāll like it ā I borrowed the cassette from my dad, this is early Post - War āā
āJumper, Iā¦ā
āāand I had to beg my science teacher to let me borrow his projector, because I canāt fucking afford one, but when I get I job later on I will, so we can watch all the flicks you want, and āā
āRaymond.ā
āā if you donāt want to do this, thatās fine, this was stupid anyway, Iāll take you home āā
āRAY!ā Lottie yelled, and Ray stopped rambling, looking straight at her. She looked choked - up, and she was smiling.
āā¦Lottie?ā
āI donāt like this, jumper, I love it.ā She sighed, taking the bouquet from him ā with a flourish, she sniffed it and smiled even wider. āThis was so thoughtful of you. Iāve neverā¦ā she trailed off, gazing at the bouquet. āThank you.ā
Ray blinked, blushing. āYouāre ā youāre welcome Lottie, I āā
The rest of Rayās sentence was lost as Lottie stepped forward and kissed him. It was a quick kiss, a peck, something fleeting and wonderful and theirs. She drew back immediately, not looking him in the eye. Rayās fingertips went to his lips, and he felt his heart pounding. Slowly, a grin spread over his face.
āUm.ā Lottie clutched the bouquet to her chest. āI meant to kiss ya on the cheek, and I missedā¦ā
Thick southern drawl.
āReally.ā Ray stepped closer.
āMhm.ā Lottie nodded, biting her lip. āSo. Can we watch that movie?ā
Ray nodded, and the two went to sit down at the picnic mat ā Ray started to rummage through the hamper as Lottie gently placed the bouquet to the side.
āOkay,ā he started, his face still hot from Lottieās kiss. āā¦my mom made us some sandwiches, and cookies too ā she made a salad, and, uh⦠I hope you like cheesecake.ā
Lottie perked up then, shuffling closer to Ray. āCheesecake? Oh, I love cheesecake āā
āReally?ā
āMhm. But Iāve never eaten it before.ā
Ray blinked at Lottie before snorting, and she pushed him away playfully.
āWhat?ā
āYouāre laughinā at me.ā She huffed, crossing her arms. āYou wonāt get it.ā
āIām sorry, I just ā how do you know you love cheesecake if youāve never tried it?ā Ray asked, before getting the film reel for the movie they were going to watch out of his bag. Lottie relaxed then, taking off her heels.
āWhen I was little,ā she started, catching another catkin in her palm and blowing it away. āAnd we were livinā in Louisiana, I took a visit to Baton Rouge with my brother.ā
āRobert?ā Ray said, trying to turn on the projector. Lottie pursed her lips.
āYeah⦠Robert.ā She fiddled with her hands. āAnyway. We were walkinā through one of the busy streets, see; I saw, just then, a bakery. Yāknow those bakeries only get visited by Squads generals, rich folks or the Major himself when they want a sweet treat.ā
Ray gave a short laugh, but it had no mirth in it. āDonāt have to explain.ā
āExactly.ā Lottie snapped her fingers, watching the projector sputter to life. āSo, I saw this wonderful, creamy cake on the display, right? I point it out to my brother, and he looks at it with me, all dreamy and hungry. It had strawberries on it, the best Creole cream cheesecake you could ever dream of ā there isnāt any of that type of cheesecake here in Maine, I know. Ray, we had the money to buy it then and there, but if we did, we probably wouldnāt eat for the next three weeks. So we held off. But I resolved that that cake would be my favorite dessert, even if I never got to eat it.ā
Ray looked at the small cheesecake heād brought from the hamper and felt oddly guilty; like he shouldāve known Lottie would want the kind made in Baton Rouge.
āSo, what movie are we watchinā?ā Lottie asked, taking a slice of the cheesecake casually. She bit into it slowly, relishing the taste ā Ray watched her for a long moment, embarrassing thoughts popping into his head before he cleared his throat and looked back at the screen.
āBonnie and Clyde ā came out not too long after the War, and the Major, uhā¦ā
āThe Major what?ā Lottie asked, finishing up the slice. Ray swallowed.
āHe killed everyone involved in making it.ā
āOh.ā Lottie furrowed her brow, looking towards the screen.
āYeah,ā Ray sighed, looking towards the screen as the credits started to show. āMy dad showed it to me when I was younger, when I wanted to know about the old ways. Fucking terrified me, and interested me at the same time. Became a total cinephile after that, it⦠was amazing.ā
Lottie looked at Ray as he spoke, how passionate he was ā she found herself smiling. The credits eventually gave way to the opening scene. Then came what Lottie could assume to be Bonnie ā fully nude yet not showing a thing, huffing and puffing alone in her room. She was clearly bored, lying on her bed and hitting the frame in frustration.
āDid you know,ā Ray started, muttering in Lottieās ear. āThe script for the flick was written by David Newman and Robert Benton?ā
āOh, really?ā Lottie whispered, turning to him as the movie played on. āAnd who are they?
āComplete amateurs!ā Ray said, widening his eyes and throwing his arms out. Lottie laughed. āLottie, I tell you ā they had never written a screenplay before. They were working at Esquire magazine. That magazineās not what it used to be of course, but āā
The scene on film then cut to Bonnie seeing Clyde eyeing the car outside her home, a car that apparently belonged to an old lady. The window cleverly covered her nakedness, only showing shoulders - up. She was yelling at Clyde, but grinning at the same time. Lottie was dimly reminded of herself. She then stretched, looking at Bonnie scramble back into her room to put on some clothing.
āSheās mighty pretty,ā Lottie commented, taking a chocolate chip cookie and biting into it. āSlender ān such.ā
āHm.ā Ray hummed, giving Lottie a sideways glance. āYeah, she is. Not my type, though.ā
āIs that so?ā Lottie asked, turning to Ray, who simply pretended to keep watching the film. āMay I ask who your type is then, jumper?ā
Ray looked in thought for a moment, before yawning. āSmart,ā he stretched out his arms. āFond of reading, prettyā¦ā his arms hovered in the air for half a second, above Lottieās shoulder. āā¦you.ā
Lottie rolled her eyes, smiling. āMe?ā
Rayās arm rested on Lottieās shoulder, pulling her closer. āā¦maybe.ā
āRay, youāre shaking.ā
āI am?ā
āYouāre not as smooth as you think, yāknow.ā Ray was about to reply when Lottie kissed him on the cheek. āBut itās sweet.ā
Ray needed a cold shower. This was way too much for him ā
āDid you know that Jack L. Warner disliked the film?ā He blurted, blushing and looking anywhere but at Lottieās face. Lottie smiled, playing into it.
āWhy?ā Lottie asked softly, leaning into Ray.
āHe, uh⦠he saw it as a throwback to earlier gangster pictures, and fought Beatty about it.ā
āThe director?ā
āNo, the uh⦠is it hot in here?ā
āNot really,ā Lottie leaned in a bit closer, lowering her voice. āā¦maybe itās the company.ā
The nerve of her, spinning that line back on Ray. Slick.
āLottieā¦ā Ray asked, breathing heavily. She leaned in closer. Their lips were mere centimeters from eachother. The film was still playing in the background. Neither of them were watching. āAre you sure you want to āā
Lottie responded by kissing him full - on, and Ray let out a shaky moan as he kissed her back, holding her face with trembling hands. She was surprisingly good at this, even better than the last time, kissing Ray so intensely that for once he had no time to kiss back. But a question was burning at the back of his mind, one he hadnāt been able to get rid of since yesterday. With much, much reluctance, Ray broke off. Lottie still had her eyes half - closed, panting in little gasps, face flushed. She seemed to realize what had happened, and quickly collected herself.
āRay, what is it?ā She asked, looking into his face. He fumbled with his fingers. āDid I do somethinā wrong?ā
āNo.ā Ray panted, the movieās light reflecting off his face. āGod no, Lottie, itās just ā I feel like youāreā¦ā he swallowed. āI feel like youāre hiding things from me.ā
Lottieās eyes widened slightly, but she didnāt say anything. After a long beat, she cleared her throat. āā¦hidinā things from you? Ray, I donāt āā
āYesterday, when you said you used to play baseball when you were little,ā Ray continued on, flustered. āYou said ābrothersā. And before you say it was a slip - up,ā Ray said, just as Lottie opened her mouth. āI have a feeling it wasnāt. That youāre not being completely honest with some things.ā
āThatās ā ā Lottie let out a nervous laugh. āDonāt be silly, Ray āā
āIām not being silly, I know it,ā Ray countered, shaking his head. āLottie, I told you already. I love you. And⦠I feel like, I donāt know. We should be honest with each other. Completely. You wonāt even tell me about yourā¦ā
āMy scar?ā Lottie finished for him, looking embarrassed. āRaymond, Iām not sure if I can ā whether Iām ready to āā
Ray started to panic.
āFine, you donāt have to tell me about that if you donāt want to,ā Ray shuffled closer to Lottie, and took her hands into his. āIām sorry, Iāll hold off āā
āIt wasnāt a slip - up.ā Lottie said suddenly, surprising even herself. Ray blinked.
āWhat?ā
āI said,ā Lottie cleared her throat, sitting up straighter. āYesterday wasnāt a slip - up, Ray. I did have a brother other than Robert. His name is Anthony.ā
āAnthony?ā Ray repeated, taking in this new information. Lottie wasnāt looking him in the eye.
āYeah. Anthony.ā She repeated. āHe⦠he ran away when I was little. Havenāt seen him since.ā
āOh,ā Ray immediately felt guilty for pressing ā Lottie couldnāt even look him in the eyes, her face turned to the ground. āLottie, Iām so sorry.ā
āItās fine, jumper.ā Lottie shrugged, laughing. āItās not like heās ā anyway. I donāt even remember that much about him. Itās no bother, really. I didnāt feel like explaining it to the others anyway.ā
āRight.ā Ray nodded, and Lottie sniffled. āRight ā Lottie, are you sure youāre āā
āIām fine. Heās nothinā to me now, I barely think about him, I was so small.ā She gingerly touched her scar, absentmindedly. āI donāt think about him at all.ā
āIs he stillā¦?ā
āI donāt know whether heās dead or alive, and that doesnāt matter.ā Lottie said firmly, clearly done with the subject. āMy family donāt talk about him, so ā thatās that.ā
Ray nodded, looking at Lottie. She wasnāt looking at him, only at her hands, so he squeezed them.
āIām sorry if I made you uncomfortable.ā
āYou didnāt.ā
āI did, I can feel it.ā
āNo, you āā she sniffled, wiping a tear from her eye before smiling at Ray. āYouāre not wrong for wantinā me to be honest. Besides, you saw how upset I got when you didnāt tell me you and Jan were a thing, and that happened before I came.ā
Ray laughed. āYeah. But ā ā he rummaged in his hamper for something once more, and Lottie looked on in curiosity. āā Iāve got something I want to give you. I took it from my dad, he said I could give it. I donāt know if youād like it.ā
Slowly, Ray gave Lottie a tattered looking book, and Lottie took it gingerly, reading the title. Ray watched her quietly. Nervously.
āNot Without Laughter,ā she read it out, her voice soft as a dream. āLangston Hughes. Oh, Ray, this is āā
She ran a finger over the cover. A boy sitting at a dinner table, deep in thought. A black boy. āā this is so thoughtful of you.ā
āDonāt worry about it āā
āNo, I mean it.ā Lottie pressed, and Ray saw her eyes were welling up again. āIāve always wanted to read this book, my Pa told me about it ā but we never could find anyone who sold it, itās banned stuff, I⦠Ray, youāre riskinā so much⦠what if you got caught? What if your Pa āā
āLottie, I tell you, itās really no big deal to me, I ā are you crying?ā
Lottie was crying. Silent, shaky sobs ā her shoulders moved up and down as tears streamed down her face, a watery smile directed towards Ray.
āNo oneās ever⦠not since⦠oh, Raymond, youāre ever so nice to me.ā She said, wiping her tears with her sleeve. Ray fished for the other, spare handkerchief in his pocket, immediately at Lottieās side.
āHere.ā He offered, and Lottie let out a laugh. She felt crazy.
āYou probably think Iām a hysterical lady now, huh?ā She blew her nose, and Ray chuckled.
āA little.ā
She rolled her eyes, pushing him gently. āOh, shut up.ā
āNo, I donāt think you are,ā Ray said, in between bouts of laughter. āChrist, Lottie, if youāre hysterical, I donāt know what the hell I am.ā
āVery funny, Ray Garraty,ā Lottie replied fairly.
āBut I may have a faint idea,ā Ray muttered, and Lottie noticed how close they were once more. She could see his eyelashes, count each freckle, look into his big brown eyes and glimpse his chipped tooth.
āIām assuming this is the part where āā
Ray shut Lottie up by kissing her again, and she gripped his collar, pulling him closer. It was like a drug to the both of them, kissing and feeling like this, and Lottie wondered why something that felt so good could be deemed so sinful. Ray took charge this time, kissing her desperately and feverishly, sometimes not even on the mouth but the edge of it, like he could never ever get enough of Lottie ā so much so that he had no direction, as fucking drunk as his dad would get on beer.
āIām asking you,ā he said in between kisses, and Lottie giggled, kissing him back. She was messing up his hair with her hands, those soft fucking hands. āIām⦠fuck, Lottie, Iām askingā¦ā he kissed her again, and she went from his hair to his cheeks, holding his face, straddling him ā fuck, heād get hard in two seconds. āā¦Lottie, Christ ā will you āā
Lottie pulled back, her hair a little messy. She was grinning. āWill I what?ā
Ray stared up at her, eyes shining a bit before clearing his throat. āMay I⦠oh, shit. Iām sorry.ā He rubbed his face while Lottie laughed. āI canāt do this with you⦠looking at me like that, I ā okay.ā
Ray straightened up, looking Lottie straight in the eye. She was still straddling him, a hand on each shoulder. He cleared his throat. āCharlotte Green, sweetheart.ā
āYes, Raymond Garraty?ā Lottie replied, teasingly. Ray chuckled, but quickly became mock - serious.
āMay I be your man?ā He asked sincerely, and Lottie smiled, not answering for a moment, and Ray got worried. āBoyfriend? Male escort? Bag - carrier? Anything? Please?ā
āDonāt be stupid.ā Lottie replied. āYes, you may. And Iāll be your girl.ā
Ray grinned up at their, pulling her in closer. āMy lady.ā
āYour lady.ā
āYour man.ā
āMy man.ā Lottie kissed his forehead, and he laughed. āGosh, Max was right about us. We are corny, huh?ā
āA little.ā Ray shrugged. āBut I donāt mind it.ā
They ate a little more, watching the movie and talking a lot about nothing ā Ray interrupted so many times with his fun facts that Lottie felt she had been on the set herself. They had finished their snacks, and Bonnie and Clyde were driving down a trail, ready to help a farmer by the roadside ā the movie then cut to black.
āOh, I was interested!ā Lottie exclaimed, throwing her arms up in confusion. āWhyād it stop?ā
āMy dad managed to cut out the ending,ā Ray replied, through a mouthful of sandwich. āSaid it was too graphic for me. I can give you a description of it, though, if you like.ā
āWhat happens, then?ā Lottie asked. Ray swallowed his sandwich before answering.
āThey both get shot to death, itās really gruesome. Not a clean one shot too, it was multiple ā they were turned into Swiss cheese, to put it plainly. It was so horrifying even my dad doesnāt like to talk about it.ā
Lottie then fell quiet, feeling her hands get clammy. She was thinking about another shooting she had seen, once. It had been a long time ago, but sheād always remember it. The feeling.
The horror.
āLottie, stay in your room. You donāt want to āā
āLottie?ā Ray asked, and she was snapped out of her reverie. āYou okay?ā
āWhat?ā She blinked. āO - oh, yeah, Iām⦠Iām fine, jumper. I think ā itās gettinā late, donāt you think we should goā¦?ā
Ray checked his watch. It was 10:30 pm. āOh, we definitely should go.ā He said, slowly getting up. āItāll be 11 in no time, and weāre far from home. My mom will be worried, an we donāt know if your dad has checked your room yet...ā
Lottie nodded, getting up and helping Ray to pack their things ā she was rolling up the picnic mat when she saw the apple cider bottle had rolled some ways away from where they were. She could leave it, but it wasnāt good to litterā¦
Lottie walked over to where the apple cider bottle was lying, not seeing the tree root sticking out in her path. With a silly sort of yelp, Lottieās arms windmilled, and she fell over in a heap. Pain went shooting up her leg, and she heard Ray run over.
āā¦ow.ā She winced.
āLottie,ā Ray asked tentatively, assessing her as she sat up. There were twigs stuck in her hair, and she blew some catkins away. āYou okay?ā
āYeah, Iām āā Lottie tried to get up, but winced ā her ankle stung. āā Iām not so fine, jumper.ā
āIs it your ankle?ā Ray asked softly, and Lottie nodded, face still pained. Rayās hands hovered around her foot, hesitant, before slipping off her right heel. āItās this one, right?ā
Lottie nodded again, and Ray sighed, knitting his brows in confusion. āThink itās broken?ā
āI doubt it,ā Lottie shifted, trying to move her foot. Sharp pain. She winced again, shaking her head. āI donāt think itās too severe, just sprained, is all. Iāll probably limp on our way to the car, but Iāll be fine, I promise.ā
Ray blinked in genuine confusion. āWho said you were walkingā¦?ā
āWhat?ā
Ray rolled his sleeves ā an action that made Lottie feel that sinful feeling below, and she shook her head.
āIām fine, I can walk.ā
āNo, you canāt.ā Ray said firmly. Lottie stared at his arms. Big. āIām carrying you to the car.ā
āItās really no bother āā
āYouāre my girl.ā Ray replied simply, scooping Lottie into his arms. āItās a bother to me if you walked on a sprained ankle.ā
Lottie looked up at him, not replying. He stared back, as if daring her to challenge him. Then she smiled.
āAlright, then.ā
Around twenty minutes later, Ray had placed Lottie in the passenger seat, put the hamper and mat in the backseat, and sat in the driverās seat with a huff. It was extremely late, and they needed to get back home soon.
āOkayā¦ā Ray muttered to himself, fishing out the car keys. āLetās get this show on the road.ā
āCorny.ā
āShut up.ā
Lottie laughed as Ray tried to start the ignition ā the car sputtered once, twice, and didnāt give in. Ray frowned, turning the key once more. It sputtered only once this time, and still didnāt start.
āWhatās wrong? Lottie asked, nervous. āAre we out of gas?ā
āNo, uhā¦ā Ray squinted at the meter. āNo, my dad got plenty of gas before I left, so I donāt know whatās happening.ā He turned the key one more time, and the car still didnāt start. āOh, fuck. Lottie, I think weāll have to walk home.ā
āReally?ā
āReally.ā Ray nodded. āI know itās late, but if we stay here, who knows whatāll happen? Iāll carry you to my house, my mom can help with your ankle, and if youāre up to it, I can help you back to yours after.ā
āOoo, Iām meeting your mom?ā
āStop it.ā Ray laughed.
āSo early?ā
āMaybe.ā Ray shrugged. āMaybe Iām proposing to you right now.ā
āShut up,ā Lottie laughed. āOkay⦠what if Squads come around?ā
āTheyāll probably just tell us to hurry up. I donāt think theyāll get too pissed ā then again, we shouldnāt take chancesā¦ā and Lottie knew what he meant. They wouldnāt take kindly to seeing a woman, let alone a Black woman, out this late. āWe should hurry. Iāll come back for the other things and the car tomorrow.ā
Lottie nodded, and Ray got out of the car, opening her door and taking her in his arms before she could protest.
āRay!ā She hissed, as he grinned a little. āYouāll get tired.ā
āOh, Iām capable.ā Ray started walking, and Lottie rolled her eyes. They were on a dark, tree - lined street ā they could only hear crickets and owls as they went. From time to time, the couple would make eye contact, smile, and look away from one another; Lottie was giddy as ever. Sheād never had a boyfriend before, not a serious one, and she liked this boy very much.
āYou sure Iām not too heavy?ā Lottie asked, as Ray started to whistle. He shook his head, and Lottie huffed, looking away. āYou really are strong, Garraty.ā
āThank you,ā Ray replied, smiling. āBut youāre not that heavy. Wouldnāt be a problem if you were heavier, but youāre not. So.ā
Lottie smiled to herself, and they went on.
***
āYou know,ā Ray had said, after thirty minutes of silence. The two were sure theyād near Porterville soon. āI had a brother, too.ā
Lottie, whoād been dozing off in Rayās arms, looked up at him. He wasnāt looking back at her, a faraway expression on his face. āReally?ā
Ray nodded. āHis name was Jeff.ā
āWasā¦?ā
āHe died of pneumonia when he was six.ā Ray answered the unasked question, and Lottie thought she heard a sniffle.
āOh, Ray.ā She said softly, holding him tighter. āIām so sorry.ā
āNo, itās not ā It was a long time ago.ā Ray explained. āI was only two years older than him, eight. Funny enough, I donāt remember much about him. Or maybe I donāt want to.ā
Lottie didnāt say anything, wallowing in the silence with Ray. He spoke again.
āYāknow, in a fucked up, cruel sorta way ā I was sort of relieved.ā
āRelieved?ā
āListen, Lottie.ā Ray swallowed, hitching her up so she was more comfortable. āItās not a kind world we live in, we both know that. I didnāt want him to ā I don't know how we'd've gotten along if he'd've lived, whether we could afford to ā anyway.ā
Lottie was quiet. āā¦whyāre you tellinā me this?ā
Ray didnāt respond immediately, looking into the night sky, thoughtful.
āSo you know youāre not alone.ā He said finally, looking straight at Lottie. āAt least, with the whole⦠brother thing. I donāt like thinking about Jeff either. We have that in common.ā
Lottie didnāt reply, but her breath hitched, and she gripped Ray tighter. In response, he clutched her closer to him.
***
āIām just surprised you picked me, you know.ā Ray said, and Lottie gave him a look.
āWhy?ā
āWell, have you seen me?ā
āMore times than I can count.ā
āAnd have you seen yourself?ā
āMost definitely, jumper.ā
āAnd youāre aware that youāre beautiful?ā
Lottie laughed. āWhatāre you tryna get at, Ray?ā
āIām no movie star.ā Ray explained simply. āBut you⦠you look like Brenda Sykes.ā
Lottie gave him another look, amused. āWhat do you know about Brenda Sykes, Garraty?ā
āI did tell you I like film.ā
āIām beginning to think you have a certain type.ā Lottie raised her eyebrows playfully, and Ray laughed. āBut. Iāve told you before and Iāll tell you again, Ray. Donāt talk about yourself like that.ā
āYouāre sweet.ā
āIām honest.ā Lottie shifted in his arms. āLook⦠let me ask you a question.ā
āAnything.ā
āHow do you think your mama looked at you when you were first born? When she held you?ā Lottie asked, after a long moment of silence.
Ray didnāt reply. Heād walked past their family photo at home so many times ā the one with Jeff was long forgotten somewhere in the basement. His fatherās hand would be on his motherās shoulder, as she tickled a tubby baby Ray, and heād be laughing too, new eyes all squinty and tiny mouth all toothless.
He always hated looking at it, because Ben had always told him he looked like a blob. But heād never stopped to look, really look, at how Ginnie had gazed down at her first baby boy, her husband looking over her shoulder to get a peek of Ray too. Like he was the most precious, fascinating thing to ever exist.
āShe probably thought you were the most beautiful boy in the world,ā Lottie continued, when Ray hadnāt said anything. āYou need to have that same love for yourself.ā She looked away from Ray, blushing. āLord knows I do.ā
A beat. āI really do love you, Lottie.ā
āI love you too, Ray.ā Lottie looked back, and Rayās eyes looked to be shining with unshed tears. āOh ā Iām sorry. Ray, I didnāt mean to make you cry.ā
āNo, itās fine.ā Ray sniffled, grinning. āYouāve just got a way with words, writer.ā
***
āIn that fair cityā¦ā
āNo, Lottie ā it goes like this.ā Ray cleared his throat, and Lottie giggled. āIn Dublinās fair cityā¦ā
āā¦where the girls are so prettyā¦ā Lottie continued. Ray nodded.
āNow youāve got the hang of it.ā
āI first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone.ā Lottie sang clearly ā Ray swayed, snorting, and Lottie let out a little yelp, holding on to him tighter. He laughed out loud, uninhibited.
āWhyād you do that, jumper?!ā Lottie grumbled, and Ray laughed even more. āCouldāve fallen.ā
āIām sorry, itās just āā Ray kept laughing. āI love the way you say Molly Malone. Itās all funny - sounding.ā
āHow do I say it, then?ā Lottie raised an eyebrow. āEnlighten me.ā
āYou say it like Maw - lee Muh- loan.ā Ray said, with a horrible southern accent. Lottie rolled her eyes as Ray burst into another fit of laughter.
āYouāre a bully.ā She muttered.
āNo!ā Ray laughed again. āI love it, itās sweet. Maw - lee Muh - loan.ā
āMaw - lee Muh - loan!ā Lottie repeated loudly, and the couple giggled, Ray shushing her.
***
āYou sure I wonāt be bothering your parents?ā Lottie asked, as Ray knocked on the door of his house. After Lottie had insisted for about a mile that he could put her down, Ray had decided to put Lottie down at his houseās doorstep. Lottie had never been to Rayās house before, nor met his parents ā sheād only seen glimpses of them around town, but never really said hi.
āNo, Iām sure,ā Ray replied, putting his hands on his hips after knocking a third time. āTheyāll love you. They keep asking about you, actually.ā
āReally?ā Lottie asked, flustered ā she tried to fix her hair, see if there were any twigs left behind. āHow do they know about me?ā
Rayās cheeks turned a little pink. āI may have mentioned you once or twice.ā
āWhat?ā
Ray was saved from having to explain by the front door bursting open ā it was William, Rayās father. He didnāt see Lottie just yet, looking straight at Ray.
āRay, son ā itās late. What happened ? Are you okay?ā
āI know dad, but āā
āAnd whereās the car?ā William looked behind Ray, only to see an empty driveway. āYou didnāt have it towed by those ass - sucking Squads, did you ā oh, hello!ā
William had finally spotted Lottie, who was trying to make herself seem small. āThis must be the little Green lady! My sonās been bothering you, I hear.ā William grinned, and Ray pinched the bridge of his nose.
āDadā¦ā he groaned.
Lottie, uncertain, offered a handshake.
āIām Charlotte Green, sir⦠nice to meet you.ā
āOh, donāt bother with all that ā come in, come in!ā William beckoned Lottie into the house, and she gave a small smile, stepping forward with a slight limp. Her ankle still hurt. William guided her with a hand on the shoulder, turning back to Ray.
āThis oneās a keeper,ā he whispered. Rayās face turned red with embarrassment. āSheās very pretty.ā
āDad!ā He hissed, before stepping in after them.
Lottie took in the Garraty home ā the general layout wasnāt that different from her own house: a small foyer, some pictures of what she was sure to be distant family members on the wall, low, orange lighting ā the wallpaper was a vintage, sweet sort of floral on a cream base. Lottie found herself stopping and staring at the one on the table, the one with baby Ray.
āWelcome to our humble abode, Charlotte.ā William was saying, and Lottie heard someone moving about in the kitchen. āMake yourself comfortable.ā
āOh, thank you, Mr. Garraty.ā She replied, staring at little Ray ā Ginnie looked to be gazing at him, and Ray was laughing. He was wearing a baby blue onesie, red faced and tubby. The picture was the only colored one, and Lottie figured the Garratys had splurged a little on it. Colored pictures were more expensive. Not everybody could afford those.
āOh, god,ā Ray whispered, sidling up to stand beside Lottie. āYouāve found it.ā
āYou look so sweet.ā Lottie cooed, and Ray huffed out a laugh. āSuch a cute little baby.ā
āI looked fat.ā
āBabies are supposed to be fat, jumper.ā Lottie shook her head, bumping Ray with her hip.
āI hear we have a guest tonight!ā a high, sweet voice was heard, and Lottie turned as Ginnie Garraty, Rayās mom, walked into the foyer ā she obviously looked older than in the photo, but nonetheless beautiful and welcoming. āIām Ginnie, Raymondās mother!ā
āOh, Iām Charlotte Green āā
Lottie was about to shake Ginnieās hand when the latter pulled her into a quick hug instead. Lottie gave a small gasp of surprise, before hugging her back slowly.
āItās so nice to finally meet you, sweetheart,ā Ginnie drew back, taking in Lottieās face. Lottie couldnāt keep eye contact, looking everywhere but at Ginnie. āMy lord, Rayās description of you didnāt do you enough justice. You are so beautiful!ā
āMom!ā Ray threw his arms up, and Ginnie looked at him from behind Lottieās Afro. āCan you stop embarrassing me?!ā
āOh hush, Raymond,ā Ginnie looked back at Lottie. āI ought to tell her the truth. She really is very beautiful ā I hope youāve been telling her that, too.ā
āThank you, Mrs. Garraty āā
āNonsense,ā Ginnie waved away the formality. āCall me Ginnie.ā
āā¦thank you, Ginnie.ā Lottie said uncertainly, face burning.
āNow,ā Ginnie smiled at Lottie. āDo you want to see the photo album of Ray as a baby?ā
Lottieās eyes lit up, and she covered her mouth, giggling.
āMom!ā Ray close to yelled, his voice cracking. āCan you ā ā
āThereās a whole theme,ā Ginnie continued. āWe really did spend almost all our savings on the little outfits, but it was worth it.ā
āThereās a theme?!ā Lottie repeated, in disbelief ā Ray wanted to die.
āOh yes,ā Ginnie nodded. āSailor boy, he had the most adorable little hat ā William even fixed a tiny wooden boat, and then I sewed a little mitt for the baseball player part, all very professional.ā
āMom!ā Ray exclaimed. āMom, I brought Lottie here so you could help her, not fucking āā
āLanguage!ā William warned from the living room. āAnd Ray, why havenāt you brought a chair for the lady to sit on? Thatās no way to treat a woman.ā
āIām working on it!ā Ray called back, sighing. āMom, Lottie sprained her ankle.ā
āWhat?ā Ginnie immediately started to steer Lottie towards the living room. āRay, why didnāt you tell me?ā
āI tried to, but ā Mom, be careful āā
Lottie squeaked as Ginnie firmly set her down on a chair ā she then hurried off, muttering to herself. Lottie looked out the corner of her eye, and saw William Garraty sitting in the sofa opposite her, looking back. A rerun of one of the Majorās speeches was playing on the TV, but the volume was low.
āSo, Charlotte.ā He started, sitting up as Ray bickered with his mother in the kitchen. āRay says youāre a writer.ā
āHe does?ā
āHe does.ā William nodded. āWhat do you write about, little lady?ā
āWellā¦ā Lottie fumbled, nervous ā Williamās eyes were similar to Rayās, she noticed. āI do write romance, but I also write about my⦠thoughts.ā
āYour thoughts, you say?ā William shifted forward in his seat, intrigued. āDo any of these thoughts go against the oppressive regime we live under?ā
āExcuse me?ā Lottie replied stupidly ā William laughed, slapping his knee.
āCome on, Charlotte ā Ray says you read a lot, and any person that reads that much must be smart. Any person thatās smartā¦ā he leaned in closer, lowering his voice. āWould see how oppressive this system is. Not whisper and gossip about the āmisbehaved ones.āā
āDad?ā Ray called from the kitchen, and William rolled his eyes, making Lottie laugh. āDad, whereās the āā
āThe gauze is under the cereal cabinet, son ā you keep leaving it there.ā
āThanks, Dad.ā Ray called back. A beat. āI hope youāre not interrogating Lottie.ā
āI would never do such a thing,ā William replied, winking at Lottie ā she grinned. āHurry up, son, we need to treat her.ā
āI do write⦠like that, sometimes.ā Lottie said, when Ray and Ginnie had started talking again. William nodded, listening. āItās freeing, especially with⦠everything.ā
William nodded, getting what Lottie meant. āIt must be hard.ā
Lottie shrugged, looking at the floor. āYou may encounter many defeatsā¦ā
āā¦but you must not be defeated.ā William completed, nodding. Lottie grinned. āMaya Angelou. I was right. You are smart, young lady. Iām glad you chose my son.ā
āDad,ā Ray sighed, coming into the living room. āYouāre talking like weāre married already, youāre going to scare her away.ā
āSo you two are courting?ā Ginnie asked brightly, and Ray groaned even more. She looked to Lottie, before sitting on a chair next to her, lifting her sprained foot into her lap and assessing it. Lottieās face burned. āRayās never had a lady - friend.ā
āMom, please stop, holy shit.ā Ray muttered into his palms, as Ginnie got a pack of ice and pressed it on Lottieās foot gently. Lottie winced, but then felt relief ā Ginnie snapped her fingers at Ray, who was still partially mortified.
āBaby, go get me some painkillers, the ones in the bathroom cabinet.ā
Ray wordlessly got up, half - jogging to the bathroom, somewhere else in the house.
āSo, sweetheart,ā Ginnie started softly, massaging Lottieās foot, checking where it hurt the most. āWhere did you move here from?ā
āLouisiana.ā Lottie replied, sucking in air through her teeth when Ginnie got to a particular area of her foot. Ginnie, noticing this, moved away from it.
āYou lived in Baton Rouge?ā William asked, trying to distract Lottie from the pain.
āOh no, we didnāt live in the capital, just an area some miles from it,ā Lottie elaborated, Ginnie still quietly working on her foot. āLived there since I was born.ā
āRight, right.ā William nodded. āAnd do you plan on staying in this old town for the rest of your life, then?ā
āWilliam!ā Ginnie scolded.
āWhat?ā He asked, as Lottie laughed. āItās a valid question, sheās a smart little lady.ā
āWellā¦ā Lottie trailed off. āIāve always dreamed of getting a house somewhere else, somewhere quiet. With two floors, and a study where I can write. After university, of course, if I could save up and afford it.ā
Ray had reappeared with the painkillers, but he hovered at the doorway ā listening.
āAnd Iād probably want it to be out in the country, a little isolated.ā Lottie went on, dreamlike. āAnd Iād start my own little farm, be self - sufficient. And publish, too. Yeah. Iād like that.ā
The living room was quiet, and Lottie realized sheād said too much, and the Garratys were probably staring at her. Her face became flushed as she avoided everyoneās eyes. āā¦sorry.ā
āOh, donāt you dare apologize, sweetheart,ā Ginnie said softly, pressing the ice into her foot. āThatās a lovely dream to have, so sweet.ā
āYouāre a dear little lady, Charlotte, a dear little lady.ā William nodded.
āYou want a two - story house?ā Ray repeated, still standing in the doorway. He was clutching the painkillers. Lottie looked up at him.
āMaybe.ā She said quietly. āBut forget I said anythinā.ā
Ray kept staring at her, face unreadable until Ginnie beckoned to him for the painkillers. āOh. Right. Sorry, Mom.ā He sat down on the sofa beside his father, deep in thought, while Lottie found herself interested in the floorboards. William and Ginnie shared a knowing look, smiling.
***
āAre you sure you can walk home alone?ā
āMhm.ā
āCanāt I at least āā
āRay, my house is five minutes from this point. Youāve carried me enough, I can handle it.ā Lottie assured Ray, smiling ā he was half holding her up. Her house wasnāt too far from the couple, and they spoke in whispers. After another hour of fussing from Ginnie and some teasing from William, Lottie had left the Garraty home with a bag of cookies, a āplease visit again soon,ā and Ginnie reminding Lottie, (much to Rayās embarrassment), that she was a good wedding planner.
āHow will you get back into your room?ā Ray said now, still worried. Your ankle āā
āI can handle it, I promise.ā Lottie said, raising her eyebrows.
āBut āā Lottie cut Ray off with a kiss, and he quieted, kissing her back before she broke it off.
āStop worrying, jumper.ā She whispered. āI love you. Goodnight.ā
Ray grinned down at her. āAs you like it, Lottie. I love you better. Goodnight.ā Lottie disentangled from Ray and started to walk again, still with a very slight limp. Ray watched her until she got to the side of her house. She turned around, seeing him and waving him away. Reluctantly, Ray waved back, turned around, and started walking back to his house.
Lottie heaved herself, with a wince, up to her windowsill ā with a quiet yelp, she tumbled through the open window and into the darkness of her room, landing on her bed. Pain shot up her ankle.
āā¦ow.ā She whispered, getting up and limping towards the light switch ā she fumbled in the dark for half a second before locating it. She flicked her finger, turning on the light, and ā
āPity that youāre joininā us so late.ā A familiar voice said.
Lottie screamed, falling over ā her father, her brother Robert, and her mother had been waiting silently in the corner of her room, sentinel. Marie, her mother, looked stern ā Robert, her brother, shook his head slowly, a pajama top on for once ā and Atticus, her father, simply took a drag from his cigar.
It was over.
It was completely over.
Lottie lay spread - eagled on the floor, staring at her family as they stared down at her.
āPa āā
āIām going to ask you one question.ā Atticus said slowly, puffing out a cloud of smoke. āAnd I want you to answer truthfully.ā
āLottie, get up.ā Robert urged, his arms crossed. Lottie sighed, standing and dusting off her dress.
āWhere were you?ā Atticus asked. āāCause it certainly donāt look like you were at a prayer meetinā.ā
āPa, Iām sorry āā
āSave the apologies,ā Marie held up a hand, and Lottie shut up. āAnd answer the question. Where were you?ā
āI have an idea,ā Robert started, and Lottie scowled at him. āStarts with āwhiteā and ends with āboy.āā
āShut up, Robbie.ā Lottie snapped.
āHey.ā Atticus snapped his fingers, before pointing at at Lottie. āAnswer the question.ā
Lottie hung her head. āIwasonadate.ā
āWhat?ā Robert held a hand to his ear, leaning in. āWhaāchoo say, dear old Lottie?ā
āI said,ā Lottie repeated, teeth gritted. āI was on a date.ā
āWith whom?ā Marie asked. Lottie fiddled with her fingers. āCharlotte. With whom?ā
āOoo, you are going to get it now.ā Robert whistled.
āRobert Edward Green, if you donāt shut your mouth, I will sew it shut for you,ā Atticus said firmly. Robert, though twenty, promptly snapped his mouth shut.
āNow,ā Atticus turned to Lottie. āWho was the boy?ā
Lottie started to sweat. If she didnāt tell her Pa, heād probably go around town, asking any boy around her age if theyād been canoodling with her. Itād be horrible, and Ben Miller would have a field day. And if he got to Ray ā Ray, who definitely wouldnāt lie about it ā heād probably get chased away by a rifle.
āIām waitinā, Charlotte.ā He took another drag of his cigar, while Lottieās mom pinched the bridge of her nose, in despair. Robert simply shook his head again in disappointment.
āYes, Pa. Raymond Garraty, from a couple houses over.ā She fiddled with her hands, trying to read Atticusās expression. She couldnāt.
āThereās another detail, Pa.ā Robert mock - whispered, and Lottie rolled her eyes. āGarratyās white. W-H-I-T-E. Caucasian. Maybe heās got a little Irish in āim, but āā
āRobert.ā Atticus said firmly, and Robert shut up once more. He then turned back to his daughter. āAnd you didnāt think to āā
āTell you?ā Lottie completed, incredulous. āPa, when we came here, I didnāt think ā I had no idea ā ā Lottie sighed, looking away for a moment. āWhen you warned me about Ray, when you said his sort go and sign up for the Walk and get shot, I didnāt know him then, not properly. But Pa, heās such a sweet boy, you just got to get to know him, I promise. He reads books, he laughs with me, he hung out with me despite everybody else at school steerinā clear. Well, not everybody, but thatās a whole different story ā heās such a gentleman, he makes me laugh, heās fun! He hates the Walk. And I know youāll say everybody does, but Ray really does, I promise ā heād never sign up, not in a million years, heād never leave his family or me, I know. I⦠I love him, Pa. I really do. Thatās why I went against you. Just to see him. I rarely disobey you, Pa, you know this. But I did. For him. And it shouldnāt matter that weāre different, but it does, and I know weāll face gossip, but I donāt care, Pa. I really donāt. Iāll persevere through it, we both will, and youāve seen me persevere before.ā
Lottie finished then, her chest heaving, her face flushed and emotional and raw. Atticus stared at her. She stared back, a silent question in her eyes.
ā⦠Iām assuming you see yourself marryinā this boy one day, then.ā Atticus finally said, after a long moment.
Lottie huffed. āYes, Pa.ā
The clock on Lottieās bedside ticked. It was 1 am. Atticus stubbed out his cigar.
āWell.ā Atticus said, standing. Heād always be tall and imposing, but Lottie met his eyes head - on. āAs you like it. Iāll have to meet this boy.ā
āWhat?ā Robert said, his voice cracking. āPa, what if āā
āThatās my decision, Robbie.ā Atticus said firmly. āI want to see him. See what his intentions are. I know youāre protective of your sister, but sheās gettinā older.ā
Lottie grinned as Atticus and Marie made their way to her door, her mother giving her a look.
āThis donāt mean I wholly approve, Charlotte.ā Atticus said suddenly, his hand on the doorknob. āIām just seeinā if I should chase him away or not. No unworthy man is to wed my daughter.ā
Lottie nodded quietly, and Robert sighed ā he followed Marie and their father out, closing Lottieās door with a click. As soon as they all left, Lottie let out a breath she didnāt know sheād been holding, falling back onto her bed.
It was official. More so than itād been before.
They were courting. Dating. Whatever. He was Lottieās man, and she was Garratyās girl.
Lottie clutched a pillow to her chest, sighing ā with a giggle, she flicked her bedroom light off.
***
Authorās Note: I feel like this chapter is boring, I donāt know. But it is needed! Yes, the door test part is a reference to A Bronx Tale, yes, it is happening soon. See you next time, and sorry for taking so long to post.
I love it š„° Ray heard her say two story house and realized he needed to lock in for that money. Robert really having a one sided beef with Ray, like itās six vs oneš them constantly referring to tragic couples, like letās read something happy like The Little Mermaid (not the brotherās grime version)
Summary: Tensions heighten with Anthony Green. Ray tries to get Lottieās number. Barkovitch crosses a line.
Click here for previous chapter
Word Count: 13,479
Warnings / Tags: use of an extremely offensive slur for a Black person by a non - Black person, which I can reclaim (this character is canonically racist and has used offensive language in the book, I am not diverting from canon personality by doing this), brief description of gore, racism, gavries, internalized homophobia, mention repressed childhood sexual trauma taken form canon) , strong language, toxic masculinity, toxic father - son relationship, dissociation, thereās fluff in here, Ray Garratyās very bisexual, objectification of a womanās body (briefly and humorously, thought still not morally right). Remember this story takes place in the 70s.
I obviously do not in any way endorse racist hate speech ā this is made to mock and / or reprimand individuals that do.
It should also be noted that this fic takes place in the year leading up to the movieās events. It is, for the most part, a prequel.
A/N: I donāt think the Barkovitch fans will like this one, so beware. Reblog and comment thoughts, please! It motivates me :)
Nine years earlier, somewhere in Louisiana
The crickets outside of the Green familyās home chirped restlessly as the sky turned a purplish - blue. It was fast approaching evening, and the house was settling down; both figuratively and literally. It was a good house, considering everything; everything being that everybody in America was dirt - poor and had to scrape around to get by.
It was somewhat a large wooden shack, a well built one. A wide, green expanse surrounded it, with horses grazing peacefully as rabbits hopped around and foraged for carrots. Flowers grew everywhere. Grass was lush, and green. The porch was always scattered with things that reminded you the house was full, boots and toys and dolls lying on the floor, discarded but never forgotten, along with echoes of goddamnit Robert Green if you donāt come and get your toy car from this porch I will send back to whence you came.
There was a rocking chair that the Green patriarch, Atticus Green, would always sit on ā he would smoke his cigar while talking to his eldest, Anthony, each evening. There was also a cracked window to the right of the front door that had a splash of ink from when little Lottie had been messing around with her fatherās inkwell. The door was sturdy, and the hallway, though dingy, was always kept clean.
Youād see three rooms on one side and two on the other: the three rooms belonging to Anthony, Mr. and Mrs. Green, Robert and Lottie, in that order, and the other rooms being a kitchen and a washroom. The washroom had a squeaky clean tiny tub with a metal shower head that flowed brown in rainy season, and a sink with a rosary hanging from the tap. Nobody remembers how the rosary got there, but they do not move it. There are five toothbrushes, and five towels, everyone having their own thing, because Atticus would be damned to hear anyone quarreling in the morning.
And then there was the kitchen, which had no door, only an open doorway, because the Greens could not afford another door in their house, and Atticus refused to let Anthony try and make one. He thought his woodwork wasnāt good enough yet to make a damn door. Son, I love you, but you cannot carve a door yet, and my backās hurting too much to do it myself. Who needs a door for a kitchen, anyway? Lottie was too short to reach a doorknob when that conversation happened, and they all reckoned itād be better for her to just toddle in. That had been a long time ago. Lottie was now nine, but no one saw the need for a door. There was a framed picture of the Major beside the doorway of the kitchen, because every household in America was supposed to have one. Nobody looked at it, no one apart from Anthony.
Anthony Atticus Green, Atticus Greenās firstborn son, was now sitting at the dinner table, humming to himself as his bright - eyed little sister, Lottie, kicked her skinny legs under the table. Robert was sitting opposite her, one seat away from the chair at the head of the table, which Atticus sat at. His wife, Marie, sat on the seat next to the head of the table, opposite Anthony. But she was not sitting now. She was humming to herself, passing out the plates of dinner, which was fried salmon with plain rice and tomato stew. Anthony had been saving up to buy some rice, all the money from his odd jobs in town culminating into their meal, plus his fatherās own earnings and the fish heād caught at the lake in the woods, his oasis.
āThank you, Ma.ā Ant said softly, smiling up at his mother as she placed his plate of food in front of him. Lottie was still playing with her stuffed rabbit Stebbins when her mother had set her own plate in front of her, and Atticus arched a brow at his youngest daughter.
āCharlotte, what do you say?ā He asked her, his voice low. Lottie, whoād been trying to make Stebbins pretend to cough, looked up at her father slowly before looking to her mother. Robert snickered behind his hand.
āThank you, mama.ā She said, and Marie smiled at her daughter before sitting next to her husband.
āRobert,ā Atticus said then, rubbing his hands as he looked at the plate in front of him. āTurn on the radio, will you? See if thereās anything good.ā
āYes, Pa.ā Robert said obediently, getting down from his chair and hurrying off to the radio. Upon turning it on, a broadcast from the Major crackled through: Robert was about to change it before his father held up a hand. Anthony, whoād almost started eating, perked up at the Majorās voice.
āTurn the volume up, son.ā He asked gently.
āOkay, Pa.ā
Robert turned up the volume, and the old radio relayed the Majorās message with ease.
āDear America,ā his gravelly voice echoed around the room, firm and unnerving. āThis yearās Long Walk is fast upon us. A chance for boys of all sizes, colors and shapes to enter ā as long as you are physically well, above eighteen and below twenty - five, you can apply. The prize, as you all know, is more money than you can dream of, and a separate wish. Fifty boys. One winner. All of you have a chance. Only three days until āā
āChange the station, Robert.ā Atticus interrupted then, his face unreadable. Lottie stared at her father as Robert obeyed, and Anthony, whoād been almost leaning towards the radio, slumped back in his seat. Marie, their mother, noticed; and an acceptable gospel song started to play from the radio, smooth and low so each family member could hear the other speak.
āThe Lordās Prayer,ā Atticus said then, and the family recited it all dutifully before beginning to eat. Marie, after a few moments, spoke up.
āYou enjoyinā what the Major was sayinā, Ant?ā She asked noncommittally, taking a sip of her water. Ant stiffened, a spoonful of rice halfway to his mouth. Lottie was sticking her tongue out at Robert, who scowled back at her.
āHm?ā
āI asked if you were enjoyinā what the Major was saying.ā
āWhat?ā Ant let out an awkward huff of laughter, and his father gave him a sidelong glance. āNo, ām not. Why āā he cleared his throat, and sat up a bit straighter. āWhy do you ask that?ā
āYou seemed awful interested,ā Marie pressed, taking another mouthful of rice. āI was just wonderinā.ā
āI hope youāre not thinkinā of going.ā Atticus spoke up then, and Marie motioned to Lottie to eat her food and stop playing with Stebbins.
Anthony hummed. Atticus furrowed his brow.
āI said, I hope youāre not thinkinā of āā
āHow was work today?ā Marie interposed, sensing the heightening tension. āYou know, in town. You get any jobs?ā
āUhā¦ā Ant trailed off then, remembering chatting to his girl, Lilith, behind the local bar. Heād still worked that day, but not enough. Her lips were featherlight on his, that he remembered.
āAnthony?ā
āUh, yeah.ā Anthony cleared his throat, face burning. Lottie smirked; she knew all about Lilith Harkness, Anthony Greenās girlfriend, beauty that she was ā she also knew that if she tattled on him to their parents heād hang her by the ears.
āThatās all well and good,ā Atticus nodded, taking another spoonful of his food, about to eat it, before pausing. āYou and I keep this going, son, then we can save up enough to buy that plot in Maine, or somewhere close. Get somewhere a bit quieter, start up that grocery store.ā
Ant swallowed, not responding. He and his father worked, his father selling crops they planted in the field in town and Ant taking up odd jobs. They were saving up money, wanted to move somewhere ābetterā, but Ant saw the toll all the work was taking on his Pa. The way his Ma would stare wistfully at nice looking dresses in the local boutique, then at her own sketches of fashion designs, the way Robert gazed at the local cars, the way Lottie would never admit it but she wanted to get better notebooks to write and dream in. He wondered, everyday, how sheād be able to publish a book when she was older; whether the State would even allow a woman, let alone a Black woman, show her story to the world. But he knew the sister of a Walk Winner would definitely have a better chance ā
āAnd what did you do today, Lottie?ā Ma asked then, taking Ant out of his train of thought. Lottie was trying to feed Stebbins some of her dinner, and stopped, blinking. Her smooth, round, unblemished and unscarred face shone in the lamplight of the warm kitchen ā her mother always made sure to oil Lottieās face generously. She looked like a radiant pearl, her mamaās little beauty.
āWell,ā Lottie tapped her chin. āI was playinā with Clem today.ā
āOh? Is that so?ā
āMhm. And I met a boy, his name was⦠uh⦠Richard, but I call him Richie. He talks a lot.ā
āOh, I know him!ā Ant said cheerfully, smiling at Lottie. āHeās my friendās little brother, I was hopinā you two would meet.ā
Robert, whoād been listening closely, smirked. āLottieās talking to a boy.ā
Lottie turned her nose up at her eleven year old brother, scowling. āWhat about it?ā
āYou like him.ā
Lottie frowned, her brows furrowing. āDo not!ā
āDo too!ā
āDo not!ā Lottie humphed.
āRobert, leave it.ā Ant warned, raising his eyebrows at him; he then quieted down, muttering something that sounded like ādo too.ā
āAnyway,ā Lottie continued, scowling at Robert. āMe and him and Clementine was playing near a stream after school, and Richie was tryinā to impress us or somethinā, ācause he said he could swim. And then I told him āprove itā and he went and fell in the lake, only his boxers and vest on, all wet and such. And me and Clem laughed and laughed while he was thrashing in the water ā he sounded all like āAGGHHHHHH!āā Lottie made a sound akin to a dying rat, flailing her arms around in mock terror and making her family laugh ā āand then I realized he was in real, deep trouble, so even though Clem said I shouldnāt dive in I did, ācause Pa taught me how to swim, and I dragged his skinny self out.ā
Ant, who was still laughing, wiped his mouth. āAnd what happened after that?ā
āHis face was all red, Ant! I tell you, he was beinā a bit dramatic⦠he was all shivery and wet and I was too. Then I had to grab his glasses as well, he didnāt even need CPR. Just kept calling me his hero, and asked if Iād marry him. I said no, and Clem was laughing her head off.ā
āHa!ā Robert said then, pointing at Lottie. āI knew you were romancinā. Pa, tell her she canāt do that.ā
āIām not romancinā!ā Lottie yelled, upset. āI donāt like Richie, heās too skinny for me. And he cries like a sissy!ā
āNow Lottie, thatās no way to talk about a friend.ā Her mother said, though there was a small smile on her face. āFinish up your food, all of you.ā
Silence fell upon the family again, and the only sounds were the clinking of forks against the plates. Anthony, in that moment, thought of their financial situation again, and pursed his lips. He dared himself to glance at his father. He was eating dutifully, hands interlinked with his motherās ā he suddenly felt the urge to bring up his⦠plan. He wasnāt sure heād like it, but he had to try.
āPa.ā
Atticus, whoād been grinning at his wife, swallowed his food before looking at Anthony. āYes, son?ā
Ant blinked, the thought of Lilith flashing through his mind. He pushed the thought away.
āI⦠was wonderināā¦ā
āWonder away, son.ā Atticus said jovially, squeezing his wifeās hand ā she smiled at her husband, while Lottie and Robert ate dutifully.
āWhat do you think about it?ā Ant said quietly. Atticus furrowed his brow, confused.
āWhat do I think about what, Ant?ā He asked, sharing a look with Marie.
āThe Long Walk.ā
There was a ringing silence throughout the house then; even Robert and Lottie had stopped eating. Atticus stared at Anthony, his face blank, his lips pursed. His mother, whoād been smiling up till then, felt her smile drop. They stared at Anthony and Anthony stared back at them.
āā¦Pa?ā
āI think that that Walk is none of your concern, boy.ā Atticus said firmly.
Antās eye twitched slightly. His father only called him boy when he was upset, or berating him ā it was, ironically, the same thing that the white men in town called him when he was doing work for them or even just passing by. Atticus didnāt mean it like that, Ant knew. But he hated it.
āPa āā
āYouāre seventeen years old, so itās nothing you should be thinking about,ā Atticus pushed on, taking a sip of water and ignoring his son. āItās a foolish, senseless and brutal thing, and thatās that.ā
āBut Pa,ā Ant pushed on, shifting his chair closer to the table. āThe prize money āā
āWhy are you talkinā like you want to go?ā Marie said then, giving Ant a look. āI hope youāre not āā
āLook, Ma,ā Ant said, his voice slightly raised. āWeāre tryinā to raise money so we can move out of the South, right? Somewhere better, somewhere we can start that grocery store of ours.ā
āYes, and weāre doing just fine with the money we are gathering from town.ā Atticus replied, the grip on his fork tightening. āStop going on about that āā
āBut Iām turning eighteen soon,ā Anthony kept going, ignoring his father. āAnd I couldā¦ā
āYou could what, Anthony?ā Atticus said lowly, his voice holding a warning. āYou could what?ā
Anthony stared at his father, before clearing his throat and sitting up straighter.
āI could enter.ā
āOh, Jesus save me.ā Marie said immediately, pinching the bridge of her nose as Atticus glared at Anthony, eyes wide.
āNo such ideas will breed in my house,ā Atticus said. āWe are working ethically and savinā money, and then we can be on our merry way out.ā
āPa āā
āThatās my final word, eat your food.ā
āYouāre not listening to me!ā Anthony snapped. His father stilled. Anthony was rarely known to snap, least of all at his parents. He seemed to realize this, and faltered as his fatherās face hardened.
āPa, Iām sorry āā
āI donāt have anything more to listen to.ā Atticus said gravely. āYouāre going to eat your food, brush your teeth, get to bed early so you can wake up early and work in town with me. Donāt be stupid.ā
Atticus stared at Ant, and Ant stared back as his father turned to his food. Lottie clutched her toy rabbit fearfully, eyes darting between the two men.
āIām not stupid.ā Ant muttered.
āWhat?ā Atticus stopped eating.
āI said, Iām not stupid, Pa. I donāt know why you keep actinā like I am.ā
āWatch your tone.ā Said Atticus, and Ant scoffed. Robert widened his eyes as Atticus narrowed his.
āThink somethingās funny, boy? Think somethingās funny about workinā hard āā
āWorkinā hard just so we can sweat and break our backs in the sun all day?!ā Ant yelled then, startling even his father. āWorkinā hard just so those people look down at us?! So we can scrape up, oh I donāt know, twenty dollars a week?!ā
āYoung man āā Marie started, but Ant ignored his mother, turning fully to his father.
āLook at us,ā Ant pleaded to his father. āWeāre happy, but weāre poor. Lottie shouldnāt have to learn how to be sewing her own clothes from scraps Ma gets at the boutique. You shouldnāt have to be overworking yourself all the time, Robert should be able to dream about buyinā his own car one day, and Ma should be able to design all the pretty dresses she wants! Lottie should be allowed to publish her little stories, because we all know theyāll be somethinā big when sheās older!ā
āAnd we can do all that the way weāre currently doing it!ā Atticus finally shot back.
āWe keep goinā the way we are,ā Ant started, panting. āWeāll never see that shop, never get out of here. The folks in Baton Rouge can testify, Paā Iām going to try and provide for this family in a real good way.ā
āWhat, by walking to your death?ā Marie snapped.
āNo, Ma. By walking so we can finally live.ā He almost pleaded. āLook at me. Iām fit enough. I have a good chance, I promise you ā a good chance.ā
āThatās what all those boys think when they enter,ā Atticus pointed at Ant. āAnd forty - nine of āem end up dying. Youāre leading with emotionā¦ā he pressed a finger to his temple, staring at Ant. āAnd not logic. You donāt get the luxury of beinā like those white boys who think they have somethinā to prove. Your actions, as a Black man, will affect us as a family more than them.ā
āWhat are you āā
āYou shut your mouth and listen to me, Anthony.ā A new hardness had entered Atticusās voice, and not a peep could be heard from anyone on the table. āYouāre being too emotional, you are being a sissy. You do not take the easy way out, you WORK, and you WORK HARD!ā Atticus banged the table with his fist as he yelled the last two words at his son, startling Robert and Lottie. Anthony glared at his father, chest heaving.
āIāve been workinā hard since I was Lottieās age, and weāre still poor as shit.ā He said quietly. āI hate beinā poor, Pa, I hate it.ā
A minute of silence followed just like that, the only thing in the world being the Greens and the Walk and the sense that things were changing. Atticus could not look at his son. He could only look at his plate.
āAnthony āā Marie started, but Anthony got up from his seat, staring down at Atticus.
āIām goinā out.ā
āWhere?ā Lottie asked, sounding so very small.
āOut.ā He repeated, a little softer this time. Looking at his father once more, Anthony stormed out of the kitchen. Lottie made to follow.
āSit down, Charlotte.ā Atticus orderedā his sentence was punctuated by the slam of the front door.
***
Present Day
The lights in the buzzing hallways of Rutherford High flickered as Lottie Green rummaged through her locker, searching desperately for her History textbook ā a State - sanctioned read that was technically just a big book glorifying the State and the winning of that damned Civil War, oh look how very great our totalitarian state is, slap a cap on the Major and call him Big Brother, Orwell would be pleased.
Multiple students bustled around in the hallway behind her, some bumping into her and not apologizing, the light reflecting off her shiny brown skin and lips and eyes. She was wearing yet another floral - print blouseā this one had purple lilacs all over. Her bell - bottoms had flowers stitched into her back pockets as well, and those pearl earrings she always wore dangled from her earlobes once more.
As ten minutes passed, Lottie was close to climbing into her locker to find the blasted textbook ā she groaned, throwing her hands up in despair as she poked her head into her small, cramped locker.
āNeed some help?ā A voice said ā Lottie startled, bumping her head on the edge of her locker as she recognized the voice of Ray Garraty, the boy who had gotten arrested around two weeks ago, the boy who was not her man.
āOh, fuck meāā Lottie hissed, withdrawing from the locker and rubbing her forehead as Ray widened his eyes.
āShit, Lottie, are you okay ā ?ā
Lottie opened her eyes and looked at Ray, all worried and freckled and himself.
Pretty boy.
P-r-e-t-t-y boy.
āLottie?ā
āWhat? O - oh, yes! Iām fine!ā
āYouāre fine?ā
āIām fine!ā She gave Ray two thumbs - up, and he laughed awkwardly. āYeah⦠fine.ā
They then stared at each other, neither sure what to say. Ever since Ray had been almost executed by the Squads, and Lottie had hugged him, all scared, they werenāt sure what to really⦠do with themselves. Had Ray told Lottie he loved her?
Yes.
Had Lottie told Ray she loved him?
Also yes.
But that could interpreted as platonic, right? After the whole thing, all Ray had done was walk her home instead of asking for her number. Then Lottie thought their lack of talking on the way home meant Ray was just being dramatic ā he wasnāt actually in love with her, right? How could he? They hadnāt even properly⦠courted. That was how these things went ā Ray would ask for her number, Lottie would give it, theyād talk and talk over the phone ā then they had to ask permission from their parents, (Lottieās father would probably chase Ray away with a rifle), start courting properly (which they wouldnāt be allowed to do because Lottieās father wouldāve chased Ray away with a rifle), and courted until Ray would present Lottie with a ring (which he wouldnāt be able to do, because Atticus Green wouldāve shot him with a rifle).
āYou, uh,ā Ray fumbled with his hands, smiling at Lottie. āYou look nice today.ā
āThank you,ā Lottie replied, smiling and wondering why they were being so damn formal. The bruise sheād gotten from Ray sucking on her neck had just faded ā sheād had to wear turtlenecks for weeks. It wasnāt pleasant in all the heat, and Robert had been looking at her suspiciously ever since sheād started doing it. She would, however, catch Ray staring at her neck, like he wanted to suck on it again ā and when she caught him, he would look away from her all fast.
Lottie would find herself staring at Ray as well, whether they were in class, or in study group with Max, Bobby and Alex. Max would be explaining something, gesturing wildly and making the rest of the group laugh ā Ray would laugh particularly loudly, and Lottie would see his hands holding his sides. They were large, capable hands, a little rough around the edges but strong. She wanted, she knew, those hands to press themselves into her lower back ā to pull her against him, to slide down, and up, past her ribcage, to palm the soft flesh of her ā
āLottie?ā Rayās voice broke Lottie out of her reverie, and she startled.
āChest?ā Lottie blurted.
āWhat?ā Ray replied, confused.
āI mean, yes?ā
āI was just asking if you wanted to, uhā¦ā Ray scratched the back of his neck, staring at Lottie; he hadnāt asked her for her number because heād been too scared to. He wasnāt sure why was wrong with him. One moment heād been kissing her hand, sucking on her neck⦠but the arrest had rattled him a little. Then there was the whole sleeplessness for two weeks just because she hadnāt been talking to him⦠but the love confession, he had meant it ā
āIf I wanted to what?ā Lottie asked, feeling a bit tense.
Ray swallowed. āIf you wanted to give me ā if you, uh⦠could I have your number?ā
Lottie blinked, her face flushing with warmth as Ray rocked on the balls of his feet. She didnāt speak for a moment, but then smiled.
āMy Pa will kill you if he finds out youāre tryinā to call me at god - knows - what time, Ray.ā
Ray shrugged, smiling down at Lottie. āIām sure heāll come around.ā
Lottie arched a brow. āHe wonāt.ā
āHe might.ā
āI doubt it.ā
āDoubt isnāt good, Lottie.ā
āNeither is gettinā into fights.ā She replied, and Ray grinned wider.
āSo⦠is that a yes on the number?ā
Lottie pursed her lips, glancing around before looking into Rayās eyes directly.
āā¦yes.ā
Ray close to pumped his fist. āYes!ā He whisper - shouted.
āNo talking about anything crazy, Raymond,ā Lottie said then ā she then leaned in closer to him, lowering her voice. āYou know they monitor peopleās calls.ā
Ray, who was still grinning stupidly, nodded. āNoted. We can talk about⦠homework.ā
āNot tonight, though.ā
āWhy not?ā
āIāll be busy,ā Lottie answered fairly, though she was lying ā she heard from one of her cousins that if you were too eager with a man heād lose interest fast. āHelping my Pa with financial records from the store.ā
Ray blinked.
āAccounting.ā Lottie emphasized.
āOf course,ā Ray shrugged, shaking his head and trying to play it off. āI knew that.ā
āYou looked like a goldfish just now, jumper, I donāt think you did.ā
āVery funny,ā Ray nodded sarcastically, as Lottie giggled. āReally witty ā can I have your number, please?ā
āAlright,ā Lottie said in between giggles. āGet a piece of paper, I wonāt say it again.ā
āWhat?ā Ray deadpanned. āI donāt ā Lottie, I donāt have a āā
āFive - five - nine,ā Lottie started, smirking. Ray saw she was serious, and started digging in his backpack frantically.
āLottie, wait āā
āSeven - eight⦠are you writing this down, jumper?ā
āIām āā Ray was groping through his old bag feverishly, trying to rip a piece of paper from any of the inside notebooks. āā Iām trying⦠you said five - five - nine, right?ā
āI donāt know.ā Lottie shrugged. Ray groaned as she laughed, her full - body laugh.
āLottie, youāll be the death of me āā
āOh, really?ā She raised her eyebrows. āSeven - eight - four āā
āI got it!ā Ray had removed a piece of paper now, slightly panting as he grabbed a pen and pressed the paper against someone elseās locker, ready to write ā he stuck out his tongue in concentration as he wrote the first couple of numbers, muttering them.
āFive - five - nine, seven - eight - fourā¦ā
āā¦five - five - seven - eight.ā Lottie completed, closing her locker and giving Ray a look. āYou happy now, jumper?ā
āAm I ever,ā he sighed, gazing at her. Lottie blushed, and Ray, realizing how he sounded, straightened up and cleared his throat. āI mean ā yes. Iām ⦠Iām happy you gave me your number. Thank you, um. Lottie.ā
āYouāre welcome.ā Lottie paused, thinking. āBut if a male voice answers, hang up immediately. Itāll be my Pa, or Robert, and I donāt think either of them like you very much.ā
Really?ā Ray said, raising his eyebrows. Lottie rolled her eyes. āI wouldāve never guessed.ā
āRay.ā
āI thought they loved me. Iām very charismatic.ā
āI guess theyāre just a tough crowd,ā Ray sighed ā he finger - gunned at Lottie then, and she held her chest in mock - pain, pretending to be shot. Ray laughed, and so did she ā then the bell rang.
āI guess itās time for History,ā Ray said, shouldering his bag. āTime to learn more about the Major.ā He leaned in closer to Lottie and whispered. āI wonder if theyāll teach about his saggy left āā
āI just remembered,ā Lottie said suddenly, smacking her forehead as students around the, started to go to class. āI left somethinā in the library ā Ray, tell Max Iāll be a little late.ā
āWant me to come with you?ā Ray offered, straightening back up.
āNo, Iāll, be fine,ā Lottie nodded, smiling at him. āYou canāt escort me everywhere, Ray. Itās not like youāre my boyfriend.ā
Lottie laughed, but Ray just stared at her. Her face warmed again.
āYou should probably go to history.ā She said quietly. The hallways were almost empty now.
āRight.ā
āIāll meet you there.ā
āNoted.ā
āAt history.ā
āMhm.ā
āWhere you should be.ā
āYeah. Oh, yeah!ā Ray started off towards class, and Lottie watched him ā he then stopped, rocking on the balls of his feet before slowly turning around and walking back to Lottie.
āRay?ā
āMy numberās in the local phone book, you know,ā he said quickly, a bit flustered. āWeāve lived here for a long time, so ā yeah, it should be there. In case you change your mind and wanted to call me tonight.ā
āOh! Okayā¦ā
āOkay?ā
āOkay.ā
Lottie turned away from Ray then, waving as she made her way to the library, which was in a different wing of the school. Ray watched her walk away for a couple minutes before entering his class, grinning to himself.
The hallways for Lottie were practically empty now ā the only sounds clearly being heard at this point were her quick light footsteps, and the low hum of the lights above. Dead flies made these lights their graveyards, all clustered up in the corners. It was, to Lottie, disgusting. She didnāt like to think about death, let alone dead things. Death, to her, was so final. She always felt uneasy when she was reminded of it.
Shaking her head and trying to get to the library before the History teacher would give her detention for being so late, Lottie didnāt look where she was going ā she suddenly bumped into a solid wall of muscle.
āAh, sorry,ā Lottie said briskly, checking to see who it was; when she looked up, however, she froze.
It was Ben Miller.
He stared down at Lottie, who swallowed as she stared back at him. It had been five weeks since Ray had beaten him up at his birthday party ā five weeks since Ray had broken Benās nose for the second time, all because heād insulted Lottie after sheād left. His bruising was gone, and so were the bandages that had covered his nose. Although his nose had already been a little crooked from when Ray had broken it in ninth grade, it was even more crooked now. He had a hard look in his eyes. Those eyes bore into Lottieās skull with such intensity that she felt the urge to squirm.
āHello, Charlotte.ā He said quietly, sizing her up. Lottie blinked. Ben had never addressed her directly before. āHavenāt seen you around.ā
Lottie then made to move past Ben, but he sidestepped her.
āCan you move out of my way?ā Lottie said, but Ben ignored her, stepping closer. She then straightened up, staring at Ben.
āI donāt see your little boyfriend around, either.ā Ben whispered. āTell Ray I said hi.ā
āHeās not my boyfriend.ā Lottie replied evenly, and Ben arched a brow, looking amused.
āRight, right.ā He nodded, not breaking eye contact. āWhat a shame. After all that scrapping, youād think a girl would give it up a little.ā
āYou donāt ā ā Lottie started, feeling her face flare. āFuck off, Miller.ā
Lottie shouldered past Ben, giving him the finger ā he simply watched her go, a sly smirk on his face.
āWatch your back, Green!ā He yelled after her, and Lottie kept her eyes on the library doorway, not looking back at him.
***
āWhyāre you sitting by the landline?ā
Lottie Green was sitting on a chair by the kitchen island, one foot up as she drummed her fingers on the table impatiently ā her two - piece floral print pajamas were a colorful compliment to the warmly toned kitchen. Her hair, which had been oiled, braided and put into a nightcap, had the scent of sesame oil. She herself smelled like cocoa butter, and her face was well moisturized. Robert liked to call her a ābig - headed lightbulbā in the evening, because she was so shiny.
Robert was also standing in front of Lottie now, furrowing his brow as he brushed his teeth. He had no shirt on, only in his pajama pants. He said he didnāt like sleeping with a shirt on at night because it was too damn hot. He was well - built, using the time in the evening to do push - ups or whatever young men like Robert do.
āCan you go away?ā Lottie hissed, before looking back at the landline. āIām waiting for somethinā.ā
āWhat, for Jesus to come down and give you a call?ā Robert said through a mouthful of toothpaste. āOr for somebody to come and tell you they care about your little novel?ā
āItās not a ālittle novel,ā Robbie, itās gonna be revolutionary.ā
āYeah, well, revolutionary gets you killed.ā Robert said, pausing his brushing to point his toothbrush at Lottie. She made a face of disgust.
āEugh! Robbie, can you fuck off?ā
āThatās no way to speak to your elders.ā Robert replied fairly. Lottie rolled her eyes, before looking back at the answering machine. Beside her lay a thick book ā it was the local phone book, containing a black - and - white picture of the Major giving a salute in the top right corner alongside neighborhood family numbers. The Garraty family line was towards the bottom of the first column. Lottie had been staring at it. She was too scared to dial it.
Plus, hadnāt she said she was too busy tonight?
Correction, Lottie had lied that she was too busy tonight. She had lied and come home with Max, helping her with homework before seeing her off (she had been glancing at the landline multiple times), going to shower, watching the evening programs with her Ma and Pa (still glancing at the landline) and finished another chapter of her novel (which, surprisingly, mentioned a lot of land lines).
āLook, Lottie, whatever you need to do with the damn phone, just do it,ā Robert said, stretching. āYou look weird.ā
āMind your business,ā Lottie replied, rolling her eyes. āAnd go rinse your mouth.ā
Robbie suddenly stopped stretching, an expression of thoughtfulness coming over his face. āI hope youāre not planninā to call Ray Garraty.ā
Lottieās face flared up with warmth, and she coughed before looking at Robert. āā¦no. No, Iām not. You told me to stay away from him and so I did, Robbie. What more dāyou want?ā
āAlright, alright.ā He replied, holding up his hands in surrender, toothbrush in mouth. āJust checking.ā
After that, Robert walked away, humming some unknown tune. Lottie watched him go, shaking her head before looking back at the landline ā she almost fell off her chair when she heard it ringing.
Could it be Ray?
She grabbed the phone off the cradle eagerly, curling the cord around her finger as she answered.
āHello?ā She whispered, grinning.
āGreetings, Charlotte. It is Bobby.ā A monotone voice replied. Lottie slumped, disappointed, and sighed.
āBobby, what are you ā whyāre you callinā me at this time of night?ā
The other side of the call crackled slightly before Bobby responded.
āI am in need of finding out the page of the textbook which we were assigned to copy our homework questions from in chemistry.ā Lottie rolled her eyes, smiling before Bobby continued. āAnd also to check if my friend is all right.ā
Lottie rubbed her eyes, looking up at the ceiling before snapping her fingers. āUh⦠it was page 67, Iām sure.ā
āAre you sure?ā Bobby pressed. āYou did not go and check. You must go and check for complete accuracy.ā
āBobby, stop talkinā like a damn robot and take the page number!ā Lottie replied, frustrated. āI know itās the right one.ā
āI do not think you are right. You must double - check.ā
āNo, I must not!ā
āYou must.ā
āMust not!ā
āMustāā
āOkay, Iāll go and check!ā Lottie hissed, putting the phone back on the table so the call wouldnāt end and padding to her room. She opened her homework book, checked the page sheād copied the questions from, and saw it to be page 67, just like sheād said. Sighing, she walked back to the phone.
āI got the number.ā
āWhat was it?ā
āSixty - seven, Bobby. Like I said.ā
āAh, that is good.ā Lottie heard an older female voice in the background from the other side of the line, probably Bobbyās mom. āI hope you are well, Charlotte.ā
āYes, Bobby,ā Charlotte said, huffing out a laugh. āIām fine. Now go to bed.ā
āI will rest when I am ready. Good night, Charlotte.ā
There was a click, and Lottie shook her head as she put the phone back on the cradle. She then turned back to the phone book, staring at the Garraty familyās number. She thought of Ray then, and whether heād be busy right now.
Hm.
She ought to stop being a coward. But her cousin had told her sheād look desperate⦠Lottie bit her lip and furrowed her brow, still deciding whether to do it. She looked behind her, at the hallway, and knew her Pa and Ma were sleeping. Robert would probably be screwing around in his room.
Surely a short little call to check up on him wouldnāt hurt. Wouldnāt affect the monthly bill much either, right? She stared at the rotary phone, large and shiny and red, and thought of how Rayās voice would sound, all tiredā¦
Without thinking twice, Lottie grabbed the phone and put it up against her ear, hearing the dial tone ā she looked at the Garraty houseās number and dialed the number on the rotary, her tongue sticking out with the effort of doing it. She whispered out the numbers.
Ray Garraty was having a peaceful evening ā his mom had made chicken soup, and he loved chicken soup, and after school heād used some of his saved up money to buy dark chocolate from Greenās Grocers, Lottieās family store. Lottie hadnāt been there however, as she didnāt work during the week most times. Her brother was, however, and was mostly snippy to Ray.
Ah, well.
His father was writing something down, his reading glasses on as the radio reported the daily evening news, his mom off somewhere humming to herself as she fixed patches in Rayās clothes. Ray wondered if sheād sing that lullaby again ā he really did like it.
Molly Malone.
Mol - ly Ma - lone. Four syllables.
āRay, son,ā William said suddenly, drawing Ray out of his mind. āPass me a pen, will you?ā
āYeah, sure, Dad.ā Ray replied, handing his father a pen; he took it with a nod and a smile. Ray then turned to the TV, which was playing a recap of a public appearance of this yearās Long Walk winner. Heād been at a town fair, somewhere in California, and given a speech. He was dressed up all prim and proper, courtesy of the State. Ray noticed that whenever he spoke, however, he had this faraway look in his eye. Like he was not really with them, not with the crowd ā like he was looking out at the road.
Ray reached for a cookie from the cookie jar then, still watching him speak, when the phone rang.
Rayās head snapped to the phone sitting on the tiny table in the foyer, and had a feeling he knew who it was. Nobody ever called the Garraty house this late.
āWilliam,ā Rayās mom, Ginnie, called. āWill, can you go answer the phone?ā
āIāll do it!ā Ray close to shouted, just as his father got up, and William gave Ray a look as he got up eagerly. The phone kept ringing as Ray advanced to the foyer, but he then tripped and fell face - flat. Pain shot up Rayās body as the phone continued to ring.
āSon,ā William said worriedly, trying to stifle his laughter as Ray lay there. āAre you ā are you alright?ā
āIām fine,ā Ray gave a thumbs up as he shakily got up from the floor, wincing. The phone would stop ringing any moment now, and he didnāt want to make it seem like he didnāt want to talk to her. If it even was her. Didnāt she say she was busy? Didnāt matter. Phone. Now.
āRay, baby,ā Ginnie called then. āIāve run out of thread, can you grab me some more from I and your fatherās room?ā
Ray sighed. āMom, can it wait?ā
āI donāt recall asking that when they said I was in labor with you, so no. It cannot wait.ā
āMomā¦ā
āNow, Raymond!ā She said. āYou can answer the phone later!ā
āOh, fuck me.ā Ray muttered, as his father laughed. The phone stopped ringing.
āWhat did you say?ā Ginnie asked.
āNothing.ā
Ray went for a ball of thread from his mother and fatherās room, cursing quietly all the way there. Now Lottie would think he didnāt want to talk. He was going to call her right away. If it was her, anyway.
Lottie stared at the phone in her hand, face burning. She shouldnāt have called this late, anyway. Sheād just leave Ray a message on the answering machine, ask how he was, if he could call back ā no, thatād sound desperate. But calling him in the middle of the night was already desperate. Would this add to the desperation?
āWhatever,ā Lottie shook her head, speaking to nobody in particular. āWhatever.ā
She pressed the recording button on the answering machine.
Ray, meanwhile, had all but tossed the ball of thread to his mom, who caught it swiftly and nodded to him.
āThank you, Raymond. Now, was that so hard to do?ā
āYeah yeah, mom.ā Ray mimicked her when he turned around, making his way to the phone in the foyer. Before he picked it up, however, he saw the answering machineās light flashing ā a voicemail! They never got voice mails; Ray eagerly pressed the play button, leaning in so he could hear who it was. The recording played.
āHi, Ray,ā Lottieās voice crackled through the speaker, sounding soft and a little tired. āItās Lottie. I guess I missed you.ā
He jabbed the replay button.
āI guess I missed you.ā
Jabbed it again.
āI guess I missed you.ā
Again.
āI guess I missed you.ā
One more.
āI guess I missed you āā
āRaymond Davis Garraty, if you break that answering machine, youāll buy another one with your pocket money!ā William barked from the living room, and Rayās face flushed red in embarrassment.
āā I called, but you didnāt answer,ā the voicemail continued, and Ray grimaced. āIf youāre hearing this, and itās no bother⦠could you call me back? Only if you want, obviously āā
The answering machine hadnāt even beeped before Ray started dialing Lottieās number, the scrap of paper in his other hand as he jabbed the numbers in eagerly. He finished, placing the phone to his ear as the dialing tone went on.
āCome on.ā Ray whispered. āCome on, come onā¦ā
Lottie was on her way to her bedroom, thinking Ray had gone to bed, when she heard the phone ringing. She whipped around so fast that she lost balance and fell into a heap on the floor.
āā¦ow.ā She whispered, getting up slowly as the phone continued to ring. One of her feet hurt, so she hopped eagerly on the other to the phone, almost collapsing on the kitchen island as she finally made it there and took it in her hands. She brought it to her ear, panting.
āHello?ā
There was silence on the other side of the line, then the sound of breathing.
Ray, on the other side, panicked, and stuffed the phone on the cradle. Lottie furrowed her brow as the line went dead.
āWhat theā¦?ā She put the phone down, chalking it up to be some prankster ā then it rang again. She picked it up once more.
āHello?ā
āHi!ā Rayās voice was a bit too loud, and Lottie winced. āUm⦠sorry Lottie ā I donāt know why I hung upāā
āThat was you?ā Lottie asked incredulously.
āā¦.no.ā
āYes it was.ā
āYouāre right,ā Ray relented, pinching the bridge of his nose. āā¦it was. Uh, sorry, I donāt know why I⦠did that.ā
āItās ok.ā Lottie paused, unsure what to say. āI hope youāre alright.ā
āYeah, Iām fine,ā Ray said, huffing out a small laugh. āHow about you? Whatāre you doing? Are you still writing your novel?ā
āIām fine, jumper,ā Lottie said, adjusting herself on her chair, one foot on the seat as she curled the cord around her finger. āAnd yes, Iām still writinā. I think Iām around the middle now.ā
āOh yeah?ā Ray leaned on the wall, resting his head and looking at the ceiling as he spoke. āThe two main characters got together yet?ā
Lottie smiled. āNo. The girlās still a bit unsure.ā
āIs that right?ā
āMhm. Sheās scared⦠of what her family will think, Iām sure ā it is based off Romeo and Juliet, after all.ā
āDonāt they both die in the end?ā
āIāll make it a happier ending,ā Lottie said, the discomfort of death sending a chill down her spine. āThey deserve a happy ending, even in another life.ā
There was silence on the line. Both of them sensed there was more meaning to what Lottie was saying, but none commented on it. Instead, Ray cleared his throat.
āYou know, Charlotte,ā he said her name softly, like it was something fragile to hold. Pretty boy, pretty voice. āI never did ask, but⦠how did you get into literature in the first place? I know you said āā Ray stopped himself from saying she got banned books from her Pa ā the call would likely be monitored. āā I know you said you read books from the State when you were younger,ā he lied instead, and Lottie nodded. āBut what made you want to in the first place?ā
Lottie thought for a moment. āWhen I was very young, around four or five, when we lived in Louisiana, I was wandering in a field. The one surrounding my familyās old house, it was lush and green and I liked to play in the grass. But I saw a book lying on the ground ā books were expensive to come by, you know ā and I picked it up. It wasā¦ā Lottie trailed off, and Ray knew she meant to say old. Not State - sanctioned. Pre - War.
āYeah, I understand.ā He said, after a beat of silence. Lottie smiled.
āSo I picked it up. I opened it. There were⦠beautiful illustrations in there, Ray. It was like going to another world; but the story, oh, the story. It was so amazing to me that I canāt even remember it. Isnāt that funny, jumper? The story is what started my passion and I canāt even begin to remember what it was about. My parents looked for me for an age, all worried ā they found me asleep in the field, curled up with the book pressed to my chest. Ma swears up and down it felt like nature was giving me a hug right then and there; butterflies were resting on my little arms, ladybugs were crawling all over my legs. She said if she were a painter, sheād love to paint me at that moment. All young and fast asleep. Not a worry in the world. Been reading stories ever since.ā
Ray grinned, thinking of a little Lottie, all carefree and sleepy. He wondered if she still had her scar then. āWhat does your dad say?ā
āHe just grins to himself.ā Lottie answered, giggling in a way that made Rayās heart flip. āIām fond of the memory.ā
Ray paused for a long moment, thinking. āI wish we met when we were kids.ā
āReally?ā
āMhm. Maybe you wouldāve inspired me to be smarter.ā
Lottie laughed. āYou are smart, Ray.ā
āYouāre being noble.ā
āNo, Iām serious!ā Lottie insisted, and Ray grinned. āYouāve got this whole⦠brooding thing goinā on.ā
āBrooding?ā Ray started to laugh, and his father looked up from his paper. āReally?ā
āYes!ā Lottie said, nodding like Ray could see her. āYouāre⦠sweet. But you brood. It makes you look⦠rugged.ā
āRugged?ā Ray was laughing even harder. āLottie, what are you talking about?ā
āRay Garraty,ā Lottie started, in a mock - deep voice ā like a movie announcer. āThe boy who does not see much good in the world⦠yet still chooses to be kind to it.ā
āYou flatter me.ā Ray said, still laughing ā Lottie could always make him laugh. āBut I donāt think Iām rugged.ā
āYou talk down on yourself too much,ā Lottie replied, shaking her head. āYou should stop.ā
Ray swallowed. āIāll try. When you start showing people your novel more.ā
āOh, here you go.ā
āIām serious, Lottie!ā Ray exclaimed ā he caught his father trying to look at him from the living room, and lowered his voice. āYouāre⦠youāre brilliant.ā
āStop it.ā
āAnd smart.ā
āRay!ā
āAnd beautiful.ā
There was silence on the line then ā those types of silences Ray and Lottie shared when they had everything and nothing to say, the same silence theyād shared the night Ray had kissed her, the silence that said so much by not saying anything at all. Lottie took a deep inhale before speaking again, her face burning. She held the phone with both her hands, both of her feet on the seat now, looking around carefully to see if anyone else was around.
Nobody was. She bit her lip.
āDid you mean it?ā
Ray stilled then, the chatter from the television in the living room becoming mere background noise as he gripped his own phone tighter.
āMeanā¦?ā
āWhat you said.ā Lottie elaborated, her heartbeat quickening. āThat day, after they let you go from the station, when I hugged you. Did you mean it?ā
āWhat, when I said I loved you?ā
The silence on the other end of the line was enough answer for Ray. He felt his hands get clammy with sweat.
āYou donāt have to answer, you know,ā Lottie said quickly, southern twang thickening. āIām sure it was a spur of the moment thing, and thatās reasonable ā you were all shaken up from almost beinā executed, for cryinā out loud, anyone would say something like that when theyāre āā
āI meant it.ā
It was said simply, and clearly, so clear it felt like Ray was sitting right next to her.
Lottie stilled. She felt her heart beating so hard she was sure Ray could hear it from the other side of the line.
āLottie.ā Ray said gently, unsure if she was still there. āI meant it.ā
āI heard you the first time.ā Lottie replied, her voice unusually high.
āIāll say it a third time.ā Rayās voice was as soft as a dream. āI meant it.ā
āOh.ā
āLottie. Sweetheart. I love you.ā
āOh.ā
āI donāt know why you think I didnāt mean it.ā Ray said, shifting. āYou⦠I know weāve known each other three months, but ā Iāve never met someone like you,ā he paused. āYouāre so⦠colorful, and bright and kind, and you see things in the world I canāt bring myself to see. And youāre so amazing. So smart. And I donāt think Iāll ever measure up to you. I donāt know if youāll understand, but. It was so lifeless here before you came. I had my mom, and my dad, and I love them, but my life was so⦠repetitive. Grey. I had shitty friends like Ben and his crew. They didnāt really care about things like I do. They didnāt care about⦠anyway. You⦠I canāt ā ā Ray took a deep breath. āYouāre an amazing friend, and I want you to be more to me. One of the things I regretted when I thought they were gonna shoot me wasnāt being able to marry you one day, when weāre ready, when you trust me enough. I know Iām no looker, but āā
āDonāt say that,ā Lottie replied, voice choked. She was half - laughing, half on the brink of tears. āStop saying that.ā
āAlright, as you like it. But I mean it Lottie, I love you. Iād like you to give me a chance, please. Iāll try and impress your dad. Iāll try and make it work with Robert and Iāll be the best gentleman to your mom. And donāt say people will talk, because they always will and they already have and I donāt care, it doesnāt matter to me that weāre different races, and it shouldnāt matter. The only reason I didnāt ask you for your number when I walked you home was because I was scared, scared youād say no, but that was stupid. But now Iāve done it, and weāre talking. And I want to talk to you like this for the rest of my life, however short that is.ā
āTalkinā like youāll die tomorrow, jumper.ā Lottie laughed. Ray shrugged, smiling to himself.
āAt least Iāll die knowing I said the truth. I do love you, Lottie. Now I just to know if you meant it.ā
āOf course I did, stupid.ā Lottie laughed, wiping a tear from her eye and hoping her family wasnāt up. They were not. āI love you, Ray Garraty, chipped tooth ān all.ā
āMmm, very charming of you to mention that tooth,ā Ray said, and Lottie giggled. āBut I love you better.ā
āDoubt it.ā
āBut itās true. So Iāll take the next step.ā
āAnd what is that?ā
āAsk you on a proper date.ā Ray replied, and Lottie smiled. āTake you out.ā
āOh, really?ā
āMhm.ā Ray nodded, leaning on the wall once more and clutching the wire of the rotary phone. āIāll take you somewhere nice.ā
āWhere?ā
Ray paused, thinking for a long moment. āItāll be a surprise.ā
āOh, youāre really leaninā into the brooding, rugged thing now, hm?ā
āYes,ā Ray drew the word out, grinning. āDress up nice. I know thatās not hard for you.ā
āRay!ā Lottie giggled. āActinā all smooth now.ā
Ray simply smiled. āSaturday evening. If your dad will allow it.ā
āShut it, Garraty,ā Lottie teased, but there was no malice behind it. She checked the time. āItās gettinā late. We have school tomorrow.ā
āYouāre right,ā Ray checked his own clock. āBut I find myself struggling to care.ā
āHa - ha.ā Lottie replied, but then she fell quiet for a moment. āYou should hang up, Ray.ā
āYouāre right. I should hang up.ā
āThen hang up.ā
āYou hang up.ā
āOh lord,ā Lottie softly facepalmed. āWe sound so corny. Like those romance flicks ā Raymond, hang up.ā
āI should. I should say goodnight, too. But I donāt wanna.ā
āGoodnight, Ray.ā Lottie said pointedly, giggling. Ray sighed.
āGoodnight, Lottie. Iāll see you tomorrow.ā
āSee you.ā Lottie replied, making to hang up.
āI love you.ā Ray added, and Lottie paused. He waited on the other side of the line, scared that Lottie would take it back suddenly, scared that sheād wake up and see he wasnāt that brilliant, scared that sheād ā
āI love you too, jumper.ā She said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. āIām still not your girl.ā
āI know. Iām definitely your man, though. Canāt see anyone past you.ā
āRay.ā
āHavenāt been able for a while now.ā
āYouāre beinā sappy,ā she laughed.
āAnd Iāll ask you all nicely to be my girl, because I know thatās what you want. But not now.ā
Lottie simply smiled. āGood night, Raymond.ā
Ray smiled back. āGood night, Charlotte.ā
She hung up.
Ray let the phone rest on his ear a couple moments after Lottie had hung up, letting himself drink in the moment.
She loved him back.
Lottie loved Ray.
Charlotte loved Raymond.
Ray was grinning as he put the phone back on the cradle, daring himself to do a little skip as he walked back to the living room ā he could see his dad reading a newspaper by the television, and heard his mom still humming in the kitchen as she sewed. The evening was warm, and the lights warmer. William looked up from his paper, eyeing Ray closely.
āYou alright, son?ā He asked noncommittally, looking at Rayās grinning face. āYou look trigger - happy.ā
āYeah dad, Iām okay.ā Ray said softly, still beaming. āHey ā dāyou still have theā¦?ā
āThe rag you use to clean your baseball bat?ā William raised an eyebrow at Ray, before looking behind his chair. āYeah⦠I knew I left it there. Here, Ray.ā
William balled the rag up and threw it to Ray, and he caught it swiftly. āThanks, dad.ā
As Ray went to get his baseball bat from the cupboard, William watched him over the newspaper. āSo,ā he started casually, as Ray began to hum and withdraw the bat. āWho were you talkinā to?ā
āHm? Oh, just a⦠friend.ā Ray shrugged, but William noticed his face turn a faint pink.
āRight, right.ā He nodded, as Ray sat down and began to clean his bat. āA lady friend?ā
āDad.ā
āHer last name Green?ā
āStop.ā Rayās voice cracked, his face going a deeper red.
āAlright, Iāll quit it.ā William threw his hands up, his reading glasses almost falling off his nose. āBut. I will say, if you need any adviceā¦ā William lowered his voice so Ginnie wouldnāt hear, looking straight into Rayās eyes. āā¦in a certain departmentā¦ā
āDad, oh my ā Christ.ā Ray hissed back, his face close to maroon with embarrassment. āWeāre not ā I donāt ā ā
āOkay, okay.ā William finally relented just as Ginnie came into the room, finished with sewing the patches on Rayās old jeans. She was humming sweetly to herself, holding it up to Ray in a silent āwhat do you think?ā Ray smiled.
āI think itās great, mom, thank you.ā
āYouāre welcome, baby.ā She replied softly, giving Ray a kiss on the forehead. āTell Charlotte I said hi next time you call.ā
He groaned. āMom!ā
āWhat?ā She replied innocently, rolling her shoulders and continuing to hum as her husband laughed ā William then got up, putting down the newspaper and taking Rayās jeans from Ginnieās hands, putting them down. Ray cringed as William then put his arm around Ginnieās waist, pulling her in as they both swayed gently to a tune Ray couldnāt hear.
āMom.ā Ray said, as William twirled Ginnie, and she giggled. āDad. Can you both not do this in front of me?ā
āHush up, son, this is how you got made.ā William mumbled from behind Ginnie. The latter giggled, smacking Williamās arm as Ray fake - heaved.
āDad, oh my ā I canāt listen to this.ā
āShe was a fishmonger!ā William started to sing Molly Malone loudly and in the middle, and Ginnie laughed as Ray groaned more, burying his face in his hands ā only to hide a smile. āAnd sure it was no wonder, for so were her father and mother before⦠and they wheeled their barrowāā
āWilliam,ā Ginnie laughed softly as Ray finally looked up at his parents. āThatās not how it starts.ā
āAlright then, Gin,ā William twirled her, and she let out a laugh. āTake it away.ā
āIn Dublin's fair city,ā she sang softly, being swayed by her husband once more. āā¦where the girls are so pretty⦠I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Maloneā¦ā
āWarning, warning, 47.ā
Ray felt the rough hand of Pete McVries shake him gently as he woke up from his dream ā no, his memory. It was night time now, and the headlights from the army tanks shone behind the boys. He blinked, seeing in fours as Peteās voice spoke to him.
āOh!ā Pete exclaimed, similar to how Lottie would. āWakey, wakey, my boy. Rise and shine.ā Pete chuckled as Ray blinked, remnants of his motherās singing voice reverberating in his skull. He was so disoriented ā he turned to Pete for grounding.
āWhat āā he rubbed his face, yawning. āWhat time is it?ā
āUh,ā Pete checked his watch. āItās 3:45.ā
It had to be 3:45 in the morning; the sky was as black as death. Ray was still getting used to his surroundings, his feet carrying him dutifully as they all walked.
āB-but I⦠Iāve been.. Iā¦ā
āYouāve been dozing for hours, yep.ā Pete completed, ever chipper. Ray didnāt respond, looking forward, and Pete looked at his profile before continuing. āThatās your mind, usinā the old escape hatch.ā
āHuh.ā Ray breathed. His mind had been doing a lot of that recently ā heād been thinking about Lottie so much, he swore she might as well have come on the walk with him.
āDonāt you wish feet could?ā Pete wondered aloud. The boys shared a look, and Ray grinned ā his face warming at the eye contact from Pete. He looked away. With each passing hour, he was becoming less and less sure he wasnāt queer for Pete.
āYou know I was sleeping too,ā Pete said after a moment of silence. āAint it strange we can do that?ā
āDoesnāt make any fucking sense, does it?ā Ray replied, his voice weak. āI mean, you know, I was even dreaming.ā
āYeah?ā
āYeah.ā Ray nodded.
āYeah, what about?ā
āUh, I was dreaming about a friend,ā Ray lied. Lottie had been more than a friend. So, so much more. āAnd uh, my mom. Yeah.ā
Pete huffed out a laugh.
āShe used to sing me this lullaby that was so sweet, you know? She was doing it with my dad, but⦠heās no singer.ā
Pete laughed, and Rayās heart flipped. āHmm.ā
āYeah.ā Ray said to himself.
And what about your friend?ā Pete asked, when his laughter died down.
āUh, we were āā Ray swallowed. āThey called me. Or I called them, I donāt ā but it was a real good call, Pete. A real good call.ā
āThatās good, Ray.ā Pete said, and Ray smiled sleepily.
āYeah.ā
āSee, thatās the stuff thatāll get us through.ā Pete reminded him.
āYeah.ā Ray repeated firmly, nodding. āYou always know the right stuff to say, Pete, youāre so smart.ā
Pete felt his face burn then, looking at Ray, who stared back at him sleepily ā his heart began to thud, and he laughed nervously.
āDonāt be sayinā stuff like that, man.ā Pete joked weakly, but his voice cracked.
āThanks, Ray.ā Pete said gently, nudging Ray with his shoulder and smiling. Ray felt those sparks again, and his face turned a light pink. āNow, tell me about your moms. Then your friend.ā
āAh, that ā the friend may be uncharted territory, Pete, but I will tell you about my mom.ā
āAll will be revealed in due time,ā Pete said in a mock - deep voice. Ray was, yet again, reminded of Lottie. His face burned as Pete turned to him once more. āAnyway ā whatās her name?ā
āUh⦠Mom.ā
āFuck off, man.ā Pete said as Ray laughed. āYou know what Iām talkinā about.ā
āUhā¦ā Ray started to reply, his laughter dying down. āGinnie.ā
āJenny?ā
āGinn - ie.ā
āJenny.ā
āGinnie. Like āgin.ā Like, uh, you know, what they make the martinis with?ā
āOh.ā Pete nodded, storing this information dutifully ā Pearson perked up.
āI bet she a real looker, too.ā He chirped. Ray immediately turned around, half - laughing as he pointed at Pearson.
āIāmma punch you in your face.ā
āGet the fuck out of here, Pearson.ā Pete said, pushing Pearson as the latter giggled.
āHowād that lullaby go?ā Pearson teased, as Pete nudged him away.
āBreak off, man.ā Pete said. Just then, Hank Olson perked up too, eye bags prominent. āGo chew on your foot.ā
āFuck yeah, sheās a looker!ā Hank exclaimed.
āOh, my God.ā Ray mumbled.
āI saw her at the fucking startinā area.ā
āYouāre so fucking annoying.ā Ray groaned.
āEveryone woke up fucking funny, right?ā Pete said, and some other boys laughed as Hank smirked.
āI swear to god.ā Ray sighed.
āYouāre funny, Olson.ā Pete said sarcastically, as Ray grinned.
āSheās a beautiful lady!ā Hank threw up his arms, giving the rest of them a look. āI donāt know what you gettinā all POād for!ā
āI hope you get one, two, three warnings, holy shit.ā Ray laughed.
āOlson, stop talking about peopleās mamas.ā Richard Harkness said, half - giggling.
āThank you, Harkness.ā Ray nodded, and Pete laughed loudly. The group quieted down as Walker #46 got a warning; Pete and Ray walked a bit away from the main group. Ray sighed.
āYou know, umā¦ā he looked around, his voice low as he spoke to Pete. āShe doesnāt sing the lullaby anymore, though. And, uh⦠the friend, she doesnāt call.ā
Pete gave Ray a quiet glance.
āPete, I miss her.ā Ray said, his voice lacking his earlier mirth. Pete didnāt know which āherā Ray was referring to ā he chose not to press. āI gotta tell you, I didnāt realize how much I could fuckinā miss her.ā He sighed.
āYou know you have to win to see her, Ray.ā Pete reminded him, and Ray looked straight at Pete. The lights reflected in his eyes in a way that made Pete want to kiss him.
āI think Iāll see her in Freeport, ācause we live there.ā Pete still didnāt know which she Ray was referring to. āBut um⦠I just gotta make it till there, I guess.ā
āYeah,ā Pete nodded, and a question popped into his mind then, a question he had been meaning to ask ā a question that he knew he had multiple reasons for wanting to know the answer to.
āYou got a girl, Ray?ā
āWhat do you care?ā Olson quipped from behind them, chewing his gum furiously. āTen cents the fucker hasnāt gotten his dick wet his whole life.ā
Ray didnāt reply to that, but there was scattered laughter among the other boys.
āCome on, Ray,ā Pearson said after some long moments. āYou donāt have a lady waiting at home?ā
āMaybe heās a queer.ā Barkovitch sneered. He had slowed down to the pace of the other boys. āMaybe heās been dreaminā about his boyfriendās dick in his mouth this whole time. Have you, Ray? Huh? Dreaminā about dick, you fuckinā fāā
āHey, shut the fuck up, Barkovitch.ā Collie Parker said from ahead. Barkovitch gave him the finger.
āIām not queer.ā Ray finally said, but he had cast an unreadable look at Pete. Pete stared back at him. āI got ā I had a girl. Her name was Charlotte. Lottie for short.ā
Almost all the boys around him whistled lowly ā even Collie looked back, the nightās wind blowing his long, black hair.
āWait.ā Harkness said, perking up. āLottie? What was her last nāā
āWhat happened?ā Pearson interposed, curious.
āNone of your fucking business.ā Ray said gruffly, not hearing Harkness and scratching at the stubble on his chin ā he thought of how Lottie would have teased him then, calling him a ābig, strong fellaā, the type to be in those strong man competitions on television. He missed her terribly, maybe even more than his mom.
āCāmon, Ray,ā Art said then, drawing him out of his reverie. āWe all dead men walking, aināt no harm in telling us about Lottie.ā
āNot all of us!ā Barkovitch yelled from up ahead ā Ray felt like snatching a soldierās carbine and shooting him, watching his brain splatter over the pavement like Curleyās had. He immediately felt sorry for it.
āBroke up with her because of the Walk,ā Ray mumbled, but it was loud enough to carry. āDidnāt āā he took a deep breath. āCouldnāt work it out. She started⦠cryinā and all āā
āWarning, number 47, warning.ā A soldierās voice rang over the group.
āHey, keep up with us, compadre,ā Pete said softly, his arm around Rayās shoulder almost immediately. āThatās too bad, Ray, but smart.ā
āYeah, I think so too.ā Ray said, lying through his teeth. Pete looked at him.
āWe got a long way to go yet. You miss her?ā
āLike hell.ā Ray said. His voice had gone all high and whiny then, and he felt like a queer for it. āKeep thinkinā about her.ā
āDescribe her to us.ā Pete said then. āGet your mind off all this.ā
āSheā¦ā Ray felt like she couldnāt put Lottieās beauty into words. āSheās got this long hair ā all curly and tight like⦠like a cloud.ā
āShe got a big ass?ā Hank Olson asked, and some boys burst into laughter.
āHey, shut up, Olson.ā Ray protested, pointing at Hank, but he was laughing. āFuck you. That aināt what itās about.ā
āThat means she does.ā Hank shrugged, and Ray threw his empty food tube at him.
āWhat else you like about her, Garratty?ā Art asked. Ray thought for a long moment.
āSheās got nice skin,ā Ray said, after a beat. āDark brown, like Peteās.ā He immediately felt queer for comparing his girl to Pete, but Pete didnāt seem to mind at all. He simply winked at Ray.
āWhat about you, Pete?ā Ray said hoarsely, looking at Pete. Pete looked back at him, smiling. āYou got a lady?ā
Pete looked at the ground for a moment, as if in deep thought. Ray swallowed, waiting for the answer. He looked up then, back at Ray.
āNo, Ray.ā He said, looking straight into Rayās eyes. āNo, I donāt.ā
Ray slowed, staring at Pete. Confusing feelings rose up in him at that moment ā he wasnāt sure what to make of this; what to make of anything at all. Did he love Lottie? Yes. Was he starting to love ā
āWarning, 47, second warning.ā Pete grabbed Ray by the arm, pulling him forward. Rayās face burned as he muttered to himself.
āFuck me,ā he whispered, his head aching. āFuck.ā
āOh, shit,ā Barkovitch scoffed from behind the pair ā he had slowed down and been walking behind them for a while now. āSaid you loved your girlās skin, didnāt you Garraty? Dark - brown, huh?ā
Ray ignored Barkovitch, focusing on Peteās arm around him instead, focusing on the memory of Lottie and his mom and the home he so desperately wanted to go back to.
āNo wonder youāre so fuckinā weird,ā Barkovitch pressed, yelling now. āWe got a nigger - lover over here!ā
āHEY, SHUT THE FUCK UP, BARKOVITCH!ā Ray yelled with such an intensity that he surprised even himself. Hot blood had rushed to his head; he felt like a maniac in that moment, felt like tripping up Barkovitch and making him fall, like he had done to that kid Rank earlier. He did not feel sorry this time.
āYeah, I said what I fuckinā said!ā Barkovitch yelled, laughing as Rayās face turned red ā he heard an uproar from other boys around him, including Pete, but he couldnāt hear what they were saying. All he could think about was how Lottie could be watching this right now, and Barkovitch, fucking Barkovitch had ā
āYou say one more thing, Barkovitch, and youāre done!ā Art yelled. His eyes had become wide ā Barkovitch paled, laughing nervously.
āYeah, you fuckinā try it, coon,ā he hissed. āItās all part of my fucking Plan.ā
āTo hell with your Plan, Barkovitch.ā Pete shouted, ācanāt wait till you die, just like that kid you killed.ā
āHey, I didnāt FUCKINā kill him, alright?!ā Barkovitch screamed. āHe swung at me!ā He looked wildly to Ray, who was staring at him with such contempt he almost tripped. āFuck you and your black - ass bitch.ā
Pete held Ray back from going over and giving Barkovitch a well - deserved beat down ā reminding him it was against the rules to fight the other Walkers.
āYeah, thatās what I thought, nigger - lover!ā Barkovitch yelled. āStay the fuck back!ā
āStay back.ā Pete muttered into Rayās ear. Ray felt like crying. He regretted coming on the Walk. He wanted to be home with Lottie brushing his hair instead. āHeāll get whatās coming to him.ā
āI fuckinā,ā Rayās voice was choked, but he tried to keep it steady. āI fuckinā hate that fucking guy.ā
āYeah, me too.ā Pete said, his voice shaking ā Ray looked at him, and saw his hands had been trembling. With rage or fear, he did not know. āJust āā
āOh, fuck āā Ray had close to stumbled, almost getting shot ā Barkovitch was laughing, Collie yelled at him to shut the fuck up ā He had three warnings already, if Pete hadnāt caught him, heād ā
āCome on, listen,ā Pete said, holding on to Ray. Ray blinked rapidly, feeling tears spring to his eyes. āJust three hours, three hours and your slate is wiped clean. Come on, just keep āā
āLook, shut up, Pete.ā Ray snapped, pushing himself away from Pete, away from these confusing feelings he didnāt want to fucking name, fuck this stupid fucking Walk. āShut up, SHUT UP!ā
Pete blinked at him, wounded ā Ray couldnāt take it, couldnāt fucking take that look in his eyes, he looked just like her when he had ā
āCome on, stop acting like you donāt want me to get my ticket.ā Ray jabbed his finger into his own chest, panting. āI know youāre just like the rest of them, man.ā
āRayāā
āStop pretending like you donāt wanna see me with a fucking bullet in the back of my head!ā Ray yelled, walking far from Pete ā he reminded him too much of her, and he was something completely new at the same time ā he thought of that kid he knew when he was small, Jimmy Owens, the kid whoād moved away when they were twelve, the kid who heād been caught playing Doctors with when they were little, their pants down around their ankles, their curiosity getting the best of them, the way his mom had been horrified because the boners they had mightāve meant her son was a queer. The way she had told Ray never to do it again, or else sheād march him down the street, naked ā the way sheād been more scared than angry. Ray sniffled, hating Barkovitch and hating the Walk and hating the world and wishing, more than anything, that he hadnāt come.
āI was just trying to help.ā Peteās voice drew Ray back into the present, but he ignored him, focusing on what was ahead.
āCome on, step into it, brothers!ā Barkovitch yelled. Ray wanted to kill him. āHey, who wants to race me to the fucking top āā
āShut the fuck up, you FUCKING FREAK!ā Collie yelled, just as Ray caught sight of a sign ahead ā STEEP GRADE TRUCKS: USE LOW GEAR.
A hill.
A fucking hill.
āFuck me!ā Ray yelled, close to tearing his hair out. āFuck!ā
āMake me!ā Barkovitch yelled at Collie in the background ā Stebbins suddenly caught up to Ray, his face a mottled looking pink as he sped walked.
āA lotta you are gonna die on this hill,ā he huffed. āMaybe more than half. Happened once six years ago.ā
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. FUCK.
āTwenty - eight in total.ā Stebbins elaborated ā someone was swiftly shot next to Ray, and he flinched slightly as he continued to walk, the warnings for other walkers blaring into his ears, his everywhere ā
Another boy shot. Barkovitch was talking to someone. āCome on, four - eyes, youāre dying tonight. Youāre dying to - NIGHT!ā
People. Boys. Dying left and right ā the gunshots sounded almost silently, yet made all the impact in the world. Ray couldnāt see Pearson anymore. Ray was sure Pearson was dead.
Barkovitch. Scum. Jumping over someoneās body ā soldier on a tank, aiming straight at Ray. Fuck. Go go Garraty, Garratyās going to get his fucking ticket before he can ever see his mom again, before he can say sorry to Lottie, itās all his fucking fault ā
Lottie.
He swore he could see her then ā a figure at the top of the hill, the night wind blowing at her flowery dress. She was looking down at him. He was looking up at her. Her hair, out in that cloud, held so many forget - me - nots you could call her a flower - pot. Ray was breathless, reverent, walking and walking so he could get to her, so he could say sorry, Charlotte Iām so fucking sorry. She was looking at him like heād hurt her, and he had, Christ he had, Lottie please just stay there Iām so sorry.
Her eyes were brimming with tears.
āYou aināt gonna fuckinā make it, Garraty,ā Barkovitch spat, and Ray blinked ā Lottie was gone. He had been hallucinating. Of course she wouldnāt be in this hellhole; Lottie Green was Edenic, she didnāt belong here.
āPlease, wait!ā Harkness screamed in the background. āIām okay! Iām okay ā!ā a sickening crunch, a howl of pain ā Ray didnāt look back to see what had happened.
āYouāre gonna fuckinā die tonight, I can fucking feel it.ā Barkovitch snapped.
āYeah, and Iāll fucking drag you down with me, you fucking racist piece of shit!ā Ray yelled, out of breath. Barkovitch laughed maniacally.
āYouāre gonna fucking die tonight, man!ā
Ray stepped around a Walkerās corpse; the other boyās yells and the gunshots faded out as he panted ā Barkovitchās eyes lit up in glee as he looked at something behind Ray.
āDonāt look behind, Garraty!ā He yelled. āGot a gun to your fucking head, fucker!ā
No.
He looked back, and true to Garyās word, a carbine, gleaming and real and there, was pointed at his head ā he turned forward immediately, his palms sweaty, his face pallid and his heat pounding. She was right, Lottie had been fucking right, this was a death march, nothing more ā
āI can feel it,ā Barkovitch panted, bloodthirsty. āYouāre gonna fucking give in, arenāt you?ā
Ray panted, marching on ā then he thought⦠it wouldnāt be so bad if he did slow down, would it? She wouldnāt be sorry if he were gone ā heād broke her fucking heart, left his mom all alone. He deserved it, Ray Garraty deserved it, he deserved to fucking die on this Walk ā
āIām gonna be the last thing you fuckinā hear, man!ā Barkovitch yelled.
āFuck off!ā Ray yelled weakly. āFuck off and die, Barkovitchā¦ā
āGo, Garraty.ā That voice came in his head again, warm and soft and familiar. Lottie. Then it hardened. āFucking GO ā !ā
A strong arm wrapped around Rayās then, and he felt Pete lift him up. Ray heaved a sigh of relief, pulled back to life, pulled back to him and her and her and him.
āHow you holdinā up?ā Pete panted, practically dragging Ray along ā he caught up.
āNot good, Iā¦ā Ray swallowed. āI was hallucinating her⦠I feel faint.ā
Pete nodded, his jaw set. āCompadre, you can do this,ā he huffed. āPour your canteen over your head.ā
Ray grabbed his water bottle sloppily, sweat all slick on his face ā it was washed away with the cool, cool water, cool like the lake he and Lottie had been in that day he got arrested, cool like the shower water the morning after that night had happened, the night he was trying not to remember, the night with her.
āThere you go,ā Pete panted, walking beside Ray. āNow keep putting one foot in front of the other. Thatās it.ā
āOkay.ā
āNow,ā Pete instructed, still looking forward. āRefill.ā
āCanteen, 47, Canteen.ā Ray called to the soldiers, his voice cracking. The soldier whoād been aiming his carbine at him stared as Ray gave him his canteen. Ray glared back.
āYou get paid to shoot me, not look at me, motherfucker!ā He snapped.
āRay.ā Pete said, tapping Rayās shoulder. āTop of the hill.ā
And he was right. They were now where the hallucination of Lottie had been standing ā now at the end of the climb. At the top. Ray, relieved, almost slowed.
āNo, no, no,ā Pete said, bringing Ray back. āDo not slow down. Keep moving. Youāll catch your breath.ā
Ray stared at the asphalt then, never regretting anything more in his life ā he had fucked up, he had fucked up so badly; he hoped she was watching and he hoped she wasnāt. He hoped breaking up with her had spared her feelings in case he died on this fucking Walk, died next to McVries, who reminded him so much of her it ached ā Ray felt this gaping wound in his chest, though he hadnāt been shot, the wound of yearning and regret.
āPete,ā he finally spoke up. āPete, I didnāt mean what I said back there.ā
āForget it, man.ā Pete replied.
āNo, I owe you an apology.ā Ray said, and Pete knew it wasnāt just him Ray was apologizing to.
āForget it.ā Pete urged, his voice pained.
āPete, I owe you⦠I owe you bothā¦ā Ray started hyperventilating, his vision tunneling as his chest tightened. āI canātā¦ā
āItās all right,ā Pete said softly, wrapping his hand around Rayās shoulder. Ray could still feel him trembling.
āOkay, okay.ā
āItās all right.ā
āOkay.ā He panted, still going. āHey, you know I didnāt mean it, right? I never meant any of it āā Ray started frantically.
āI know, Ray,ā Pete said, pulling Ray closer to him. āShe knows. Itās all good. Itās all good. Let it out. Donāt be fuckinā dumb.ā
āYou donāt know if ā ā
āIf sheās the friend you talk about so much, I know itās true,ā Pete replied, his voice pained. āAnd I know you didnāt mean what you said to me either, because youāre not that type of guy, Ray, youāre good. Now keep the pace. Keep the pace.ā
Ray nodded, swallowing. āWhat about the rest of them? The Musketeers?ā
āThe Musketeers are all good,ā Pete replied, and Ray let out a sigh of relief. āKeep moving. You got it.ā
They kept walking, and Ray swore he could he could see the beginning of a sunrise soon enough ā only god knows how long theyād been on the hill ā he then looked at McVries, who had saved his life multiple times, and felt that feeling again. He did not understand it. How could he feel the same, familiar things he felt for a girl, Lottie, for a man, Pete? Ray had been told all his life that there were two categories of people. Normal, not normal. Queer, not queer. But this Walk, this boy ā was doing things to him that had been long buried with Jimmy Owens.
He thought of the forget me nots in Lottieās hair, and knew that hill would not be the last place he saw her when she was not even there.
***
Next Chapter: Coming Soon
A/N: To the people thinking that it is ātoo soonā for Ray to be telling Lottie that he loves her, remember that it has been around three months, and he told Pete he loved him after five days. The universe that TLW takes place in, I think, is like a pressure cooker ā feelings like these dont often have the breathing space to be danced around. No cushioning or pussyfooting, it comes out raw and honest and itself. They are not promised comfort or tomorrow like we are in a normal world, so I find it to be natural and more honest here.
It is worth mentioning that I am fully aware the ritual of ācourtingā is old - fashioned, especially considering this movie / book takes place in the late 70s, but I think that The Long Walk universeās America would be stuck in some conservative ways due to oppression and such ā courting formally like this would, in my opinion, still be very much a thing in the Majorās America, even though historically casual dating was becoming more of a thing around this time.
Side note: Laura Palmerās theme from Twin Peaks reminds me a lot of Lottie. And the Long Walkās main theme is kind of like the boy version, so it reminds me a lot of its main character, Ray. Imagine those two melodies together. Hm.
And no, Iām not taking that part out. I think it needs to be there, I think ninety percent of the fandom conveniently āforgetsā Barkovitch is a racist. Hereās a reminder! This isnāt just a romance story. If youāve noticed, it progressively gets more serious and complex. (I, myself am Black ā if you really doubt it, my IG is asteriastarry, check my stuff).
Please I love thisšš oh Romeo and Juliet, if they end the same way then the Greenās and Ginnie can share Robert cause thatās all they gonna have left Bobby needs to go like yesterday, he pops up like a zit, to me the courting make sense even in the 70s giving the fact Maine is a small town.
As someone currently reading the book, I surprised it took Barkovitch so long to say the hard R, the way he was moving. I like to think Barkovitch is to Charlie like how Elvis was to Austin Butler a demon over his shoulder that wouldāve leaveš
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Authorās Note; this is a bit self indulgent; this was supposed to be a small headcanon of all the walkers but I got carried away with Collieās section and decided to make itās own post. this is set in a college au, itās not that important
Word Count; 524 (short and sweet)
Warnings; none just fluff
He loves your hair, if you wore it natural, braids, faux locs, wigs everything he liked. Would place bets with the guys to see what your next hairstyle would be, Barkovitch hasnāt won a single one still waiting for the day you show up with a buzz cut.
However Collie couldnāt just sit on the sidelines anymore, he was determined to learn how to braid your hair, washing and detangling were easy to pick up. He has his own strict rules for doing his own hair⦠It's the styling thatās the problem.
He can just dry and toss his hair to the side, that doesn't work the same for you, his first attempt had too much gel, the next one had too much water that fizzed your hair back; and donāt even try to get this man to silk press your hair. He watched you regularly as you styled your hair before classes, watching how much of each product you used and watching for which ones you avoided on cold or hot days.
It finally came the day for Collie to try doing your hair again, it was a Sunday so everyone was home, you guys were washing your hair together in the bathroom. Collie passes you the detangling comb you kept in the shower, occasionally jumping in to help when your nails would catch on your hair.
Both of you got out of the shower, Collie wrapped his towel around his waist as he helped spread the leave-in conditioner in your hair. Once both of your bodies were dry and dressed, heād watch you perch yourself on the bathroom sink, his dryer in your hands.
He leaned against the doorway in his boxers as you used all the hair clips you could find, to section your hair off for drying. His eyes traced the slight muscle, that tensed and relaxed, on your arm as you passed the dryer through each section.
You give a frustrated groan at the pain in your arms, putting the drying down and rolling your joints to release so much pain, your eyes lifted seeing Collieās reflection in the mirror get behind you. He picked the dryer up and started to finish the other half of your head, other than a small hiss to turn the heat, you were silent.
Collie thought he did a good job, it was a blowout but you still hadnāt said anything. Was it too frizzy, was it too straight, did he leave a section slightly wet⦠he didnāt know. You gave a bit of oil to your ends before wrapping your hair for the night, getting the body butter from your overnight bag for your arms and legs then made your way over to Collieās bed.
Collie was propped up against his headboard, his thumb between his teeth, his eyes focused on the carpet, you crawled over him to your side of the bed. Stopping to take his hands in yours and kiss his lips, whispering āI love itā before lying down, no you didnāt see the dopey grin on his face when he fell asleep; but you sure did in the morning.
[the mood board above does not relate to the main pairing. Read to find out more].
Summary: Anthony Green grapples with making a decision. Lottie sneaks out to Rayās party. Ray makes a bold decision.
Click here for the previous chapter
Word count: 8,037 (Jesus fucking Christ Iām sorry)
Warnings: misinterpretation of someoneās race, a little spice, sexual shame, racist undertones (NEVER from Ray), trauma response, reference to racial violence, racial tension
Songs used: Historia de un amor (Guadalupe Pineda), Oh My Angel (Bertha Tillman), Thatās The Way I Like It (KC and the Sunshine Band), You Never Can Tell (Chuck Berry). None of the lyrics from any of these songs belong to me. Play them if you want to get the vibe of the scene, but it isnāt mandatory haha
It should be noted that this fic takes place in the year leading up to the movieās events. It is, for the most part, a prequel.
A/N: I hate this chapter so much it feels so shitty⦠please tell me you guys enjoy it š comment and reblog PLEASE
Nine years earlier, somewhere in Louisiana
Anthony Green loved to take strolls in the early mornings ā it was his favorite thing, second to tickling his baby sister Lottie or tossing his brother Robert over his shoulder whenever he was being particularly raucous.
Hmm.
Thatād make it third. Or fourth, considering the other favorite thing he liked to do, but that wasnāt important right now.
What was important was taking in the beautiful morning ā right now, itād be too early to encounter any of the other men that lived in town, the ones that called him āboyā and spat at the floor close to where he stood, the ones that told him to watch where he was going, the ones that reminded him that it hadnāt been too long since lynchings were a common thing.
They still happened. Just not frequently. Sparsely, if you will.
The Majorās government had passed hard laws condemning it, Anthony thought, pausing to watch a young deer pass by. He was getting closer to the woods, where one of his favorite things were. But people still looked at him contemptuously whenever he went into town to buy something for Lottie or Robbie or do some work. He hated it. But soon, heād be old enough to have a chance of getting enough money to solve all his familyās problems and his own. Just a little longer. He was only seventeen now, but heād be eighteen before he knew it. Then he could go and try, no matter what his Pa thought.
No matter what she⦠never mind.
Ant was now in the thick of the woods, where trees that were tall and imposing resided, where birds twittered as if singing to the morning sun. It was terribly colorful here, and there were plenty of flowers ā daisies, roses, forget - me - nots, red carnations. Whenever he saw these flowers, he was reminded of Lottie, who was nine now ā it seemed with every year, his sister got more and more sprightly, smart, and a hell of a lot more inquisitive. She kept asking just where Anthony would go every morning.
āThatās none of your business, Lottie,ā heād replied one morning, when sheād followed him out to the porch. Lottie had stomped her foot down, huffing.
āBut I wanna see, Ant, I wanna see! I wanna see - eeee.ā
āSee yourself back into bed, nosy.ā Heād reply, chuckling ā Lottie would pout, clutching her toy rabbit Stebbins to her chest and trying to make Ant feel all bad about it. When she realized it wasnāt working, sheād call Ant a butthead and stomp back inside.
Now, Ant was sidestepping stones and trying his best not to trip and fall in the woods, his boots making crunching noises as he drew closer to his destination, the lake he liked to call his own oasis. It was of medium size, and fish liked to zip and zoom within it ā heād catch one or two sometimes, and theyād wriggle in his hands feverishly before heād put them in his tiny bucket and bring them home for his Ma to fry. Then the Greens would have a good dinner.
But that wasnāt the only reason he liked his oasis.
The twittering of the songbirds soon started to merge with a melody that Ant found to be sweeter than anything ā the sound of a womanās voice, the sweet highs and lows of her humming and the strums of her guitar. He knew he was close to the oasis, he knew it.
āYa no estĆ”s mĆ”s a mi lado corazón
En el alma sólo tengo soledad
Y si ya no puedo verte
Porque Dios me hizo quererte
Para hacerme sufrir mĆ”s ā¦?ā
The strum of the guitar, skilled and beautiful and mesmerizing, drew Anthony closer. He could hear the gentle tinkle of the stream now, but the singing, the singing would always pervade his senses first.
āSiempre fuiste la razón de mi existir
Adorarte para mà fue religión
En tus besos yo encontraba
El calor que me brindaba
El amor y la pasiónā¦ā
Ant could see her now⦠she was turned away from him, her long, jet - black curly hair spilling out over her back, her cream colored dressās skirt splayed out on the rock she was sitting on, the edges dyed multiple colors, each brown beauty mark and freckle on her olive - colored skin standing out to him beautifully.
Es la historia de un amor
Como no hay otro igual
Que me hizo comprender
Todo el bien, todo el malā¦
He started to creep towards her slowly, his hands reaching outā¦
The girl gasped as Anthony hugged her tightly from behind, startling her ā her guitar, which was embossed with swirls and patterns and carvings, almost toppled out of her grasp and into the lake; Anthony grabbed it swiftly before it could. She whipped around to see his laughing face and quickly relaxed before grumbling.
āAnt, what are you ā you scared me!ā She hissed. Ant kept laughing, and the girl scowled at him, smacking his hand. āCreĆ que me estaban secuestrando, idiota. I thought I was being taken away!ā
āI ā Iām sorry, darlinā,ā Anthony was still laughing, pointing at her. āYou shoulda seen your face. I mean, Christ ā you looked all like āā Anthony then made a very stupid facial expression, and the girl shoved him, annoyed ā before turning away and crossing her arms.
āHey,ā Ant poked her back softly, but she only humphed. āLilith.ā
She didnāt turn around.
āLils.ā
Still didnāt turnaround.
āLove of my life,ā Ant said slowly, resting his head in the crook of her neck. She didnāt shrug him off, so he took it as a good sign. āMy favorite musician, future mother of my childrenā¦ā
āI doubt that part.ā
āWhatever you say, whatever you want,ā Anthony murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Lilithās neck before wrapping his arms around her middle. āAs long as I can marry you, Iāll be happy. Kids or no kids.ā
Lilith turned back to Anthony then, and he smiled up at her ā she was beautiful. Her skin was olive toned, and she had beauty marks speckled all over her face. Her hair, dark as night, curled and spilled everywhere. Her eyes were a deep brown, and would cause Anthony to stop in his tracks whenever she looked at him. Her lips were pink and kissable, and she giggled when Anthony gently took her face in his hands and kissed them.
āHow are you?ā He murmured against her lips. They tasted like strawberries. āFeels like I havenāt seen you in years.ā
āYou saw me yesterday.ā She whispered, before kissing him again.
āFeels the fuckinā same, darling.ā He said, before pulling Lilith closer. She let out another laugh, louder this time and unbounded.
āYouāre crazy, Ant, but Iām fine. I only had to sing Richard to sleep last night, so Iām a little tired ā little brothers are so annoyinā.ā She sighed, tracing circles on Anthonyās back. āBut I love him to bits. He wants to be a writer, like your sister Lottie.ā
āIs that so.ā
āMhm.ā Lilith hummed, looking at Anthonyās face closely. āWants to do a piece on The Long Walk one day, he said. I told him heād go to that thing over my dead body.ā
Anthony laughed, but he felt an undercurrent of discomfort as he did. If Lilith knew what he was planning, sheād ā
āBut anyway,ā she said then, sighing and pulling Anthony out of his reverie. āHowāre things at home?ā
āTough.ā He said simply, shrugging. āMy Paās still tryinā to get the grocery store thing underway, upgrade from just livinā on a plain old farm, but itās hard. If everything goes to plan, however, I can give him enough money to start it up and move on out of here⦠and marry you, of course.ā
Ant kissed Lilith once more, and she giggled. āWhatās this plan of yours, Ant? You never tell me about it.ā
āYouāll know when you know, Lils.ā Ant replied, avoiding the question. āAnyway ā your singing was divine, Iāll tell you that ā as always.ā
āYouāre hungry.ā
āIām truthful.ā
Anthony and Lilith had met a year prior, when they were both sixteen; the former had just had a rough day in town, almost got into a squabble ā after everything, heād stormed off into the woods to clear his head, to be alone. Among the trees, however, heād found Lilith. She had been singing to herself all morosely by the lake, her guitar in her arms as she did. Anthony, completely mesmerized by her voice, had hidden behind a tree and watched. Heād seen her in town from time to time. She was pretty, and quiet, and mostly kept to herself ā her little brother, Richard, was around Lottieās age. He had big glasses and messy hair and a big notepad in hand, always ready to write something down. Like he was some sort of journalist. Heād even come up to Anthony once while he was working.
āAnd how do you do today, sir?ā Richard would say, pushing up his spectacles. Anthony, whoād been lifting a tyre, set it down and looked at Richard, who was all curious and bug - eyed.
āAnd who might you be, hm?ā he smiled down at the boy.
āI, good sir, am Richard Harkness,ā Richard had replied, taking notes. āā¦and you areā¦?ā
āAnthony Green,ā Ant had huffed, wiping sweat from his brow. āWhere are your parents?ā
āThat doesnāt matter, good sir!ā Harkness had replied eagerly, puffing out his chest. āIām here to report on āā
āRichie!ā Lilith had hurried over, carrying a basket. āStop being a bother!ā
āIām not beinā a bother, Lils,ā Richard started giggling as she grabbed his hand, his little glasses crooked. āIām not being a bother!ā
āIām sorry,ā Lilith breathed, looking directly at Anthony ā and blushing furiously. āSo sorry.ā
āCĆ”llate, muchacho!ā Lilith hissed at Richard ā but Anthony simply gazed at her, feeling heat rush to his cheeks.
āSorry again,ā she said, before nodding at him and all but dragging Richard away, who was still fidgeting and fighting.
āItās fine!ā Anthony called after her, but she was too far to hear by then.
And when heād seen her singing by the lake that day, heād watched and watched ā he came back everyday to watch her, feeling a creep for it but never trying to touch her or bother her, just wanting to listen to her sing.
Then sheād caught him, and instead of screaming or calling him a creep⦠she taught him to sing. And play the guitar; and itād been history from there.
āYou know,ā Lilith said now, after a long beat of silence, āI worry about Richard. He thinks that horrible Long Walk thing is so⦠amazing.ā She swallowed, looking up at the treetops. āBut itās not. Itās just⦠a death walk. Young boys losinā their lives. I canāt bear to watch it.ā
āBut itās honorable for them,ā Anthony said uneasily, not quite meeting Lilithās eyes. āA chance for riches and glory and fame and āā
āDeath,ā Lilith interposed, pursing her lips. āDespair. Exhaustion. Mental scars thatāll never heal. Itās no good. Iād hate for anyone I cared about to go.ā
Anthony swallowed, looking down. Lilith arched a brow.
āI hope youāre not thinkinā of going.ā
āWhat?ā Anthony replied almost immediately, his face feeling hot. āNo, thatās ā of course not, Lils.ā
āYou better not.ā She said darkly, and Anthony laughed nervously in response.
āBut all that stuff you mentioned,ā he said after a beat of silence, unable to help himself. āWe ā I ā face it everyday. You know itās hard living out here under the Major.ā
Lilithās pursed her lips. āAnt āā
āNo, bear with me for a moment, Lilith,ā Anthony interjected gently. āPeople are poor. Everybodyās poor. Apart from the government officials like the Major or their families. Everyoneās scraping to get by, and they give us a chance. No one that respects himself, no one thatās got a heart, would want to join the Squads, take the other option. You see the type of pain they inflict, the boys they shoot on the Walk. It takes a certain kind of person to do that. So would it be so crazy to ā ?ā
āDonāt finish that sentence.ā Lilith said firmly, and Anthony shut up.
For about three seconds.
āJust think about it, Lils.ā
āYou sound like youāre going to go.ā Lilith sat up straighter, giving Anthony a long, hard look. āLike youāre trying to convince me ā what about your siblings? Are you even sure youād survive?ā
āItās hard enough surviving as - is,ā Anthony replied, avoiding the question. āI canāt even love you out in the open, Lilith.ā
There was a long beat of silence, in which Lilith stared at Anthony and Anthony stared at Lilith.
āYou know itās true.ā
āMy parents will have to get over it when itās time.ā She replied, looking away from him ā her eyes looked glassy. āTendrĆ”n que aceptar que el chico que amo tiene la piel mĆ”s oscuraāā
āYeah, but then what?ā Anthony replied, sighing. āHow will I support you? The money I get from odd jobs wonāt be enough āā
āWeāll both work.ā
āI donāt want you to give up on your singing dreams,ā Anthony pressed, shifting closer to Lilith. Her face turned a rosy pink as he did. āI donāt want to make you feel uncomfortable at any point, Lils. I love you, you know that.ā
āIf you love me, youāll stop even thinking about going to that cursed Walk,ā Lilith said firmly, her eyes flashing. āI donāt āā she sighed, blinking quickly. āI donāt want you to get killed before our lives truly begin, Anthony. Now stop talking like youāre thinking of going, just stop.ā
Anthony opened his mouth, thought better of it, and clamped it shut. Lilith was looking away, staring at the fishes darting beneath the lakeās water.
āHey.ā Ant urged softly, nudging Lilith. āLils.ā
āGo away.ā
āI wonāt talk about the Walk again, okay?ā
āAnthony.ā
āI mean it. Wonāt you just āā
The rest of Antās sentence was lost as Lilith turned around and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him. He let out a huff, grinning, before slowly hugging her back.
āYouāre one of the few people that make me feel normal in this town, Ant,ā she whispered into his ear ā the smell of vanilla and spices filled his nose as she held him tighter. āAnd the other person is a nine year old boy. My baby brother.ā
Ant laughed again. āHe and Lottie really should meet one of these days. I think she and Richard would get along.ā
āMhm.ā Lilith hummed. āThey would. So stick around and see it happen, Ant.ā
Anthony smiled, though it felt a bit strained. āI will.ā
They stayed like that, embracing in the quiet ā before it happened.
āANT! ARE YOU HUGGINā A GIRL?!ā an all too familiar childās voice screamed, shattering the quiet.
āOh, sweet baby Jesus.ā Ant sighed deeply, ignoring the voice and hoping he was dreaming.
āWhoās that?ā Lilith asked, withdrawing from the hug and looking around.
āI hope itās not who I think it is.ā Ant groaned, looking up ā lo and behold, it was nine year old Lottie, front tooth freshly regrown, other front tooth preparing to fall out. She was standing on one of the rocks bordering the lake, her toy rabbit Stebbins tucked under one arm as she grinned triumphantly. Her shoes were muddy, as was her dress.
āLottie!ā Ant yelled, as Lilith covered her mouth and giggled. āWhat did I tell you about mindinā your business?!ā
āANT, IM TELLINā PA YOUāRE HUGGINā ON A WHITE GIRL!ā Lottie yelled back, grinning. āIāM TELLINā, IM TELLINā āā
āSheās not white, you ā you know what, get down here!ā
āNo!ā Lottie yelled back, and squealed when Ant got up, chasing her ā she turned to run before tripping and falling to the floor immediately.
āOw!ā She yelled ā in the next moment, Ant had scooped her up into his arms, and she giggled as he tickled her.
āNow Iāll tell you somethinā right now, you sneaky little buttercup,ā Ant said as Lottie laughed.
āLet me go, Ant, let me go!ā Lottie protested, but she was still giggling.
āIāll let you go when you promise not to tell Pa or Ma or Robbie OR even your little friends in town āā
āNot even Clementine?ā
āNot even Clementine, you little nosey - head.ā Anthony said, making a face at Lottie. She laughed again. āNo tellinā anybody Iāve got a lady, you hear?ā
āOr what?ā Lottie challenged, as Anthony carried her back to the lake and where Lilith sat, smiling at them.
āOr no more sweets and books from me.ā Anthony replied fairly.
āNo!ā Lottie exclaimed, suddenly in despair.
āExactly,ā Anthony replied, setting Lottie down and sitting next to Lilith. āSo zip it.ā
Lottie humphed, crossing her arms and looking at Lilith. The latter waved at Lottie, and her face broke into a smile once more.
āHello, miss, my nameās Charlotte.ā Lottie said sweetly, and Lilith laughed. āBut you can call me Lottie. I like readinā and such. Are you the girl who taught him that song he keeps singinā in the morning? Are you gonna marry him? If youāre not white, what are you?ā
āLottieāāAnthony started.
āItās okay,ā Lilith said, smiling at Lottie. āIām from Cuba, like my parents. Hispanic.ā
āOh!ā Lottie snapped her fingers. āIāve read about Cuba, itās really nice, especially all that food. Do you like it better here, or there āā
āLottie, stop asking so many damn questions.ā Anthony said, and Lottie shut up as Lilith laughed.
Present Day
Eighteen - year old Lottie Green was going to sneak out to Ray Garratyās birthday party tonight.
Eight - teen, Lottie Green.
Hmm. That rhymed.
Lottie shook her head then, ridding herself of the ridiculous train of thought ā on her bed lay the dress sheād picked out for tonight⦠it had a high peter - pan neckline and short puff sleeves, both trimmed with delicate white lace. The fabric had a yellow and white gingham check pattern, and this was overlaid with a dense floral print ā flowers in shades of orange, yellow, and red were splattered all over. A matching bow sat neatly on top, both freshly ironed. Then, she looked at her dark tights ā they were shimmery ones that would make her legs look all sparkly in the low light. And she was wearing her best shoes, yellow round - toe Mary Jane block heels, the ones with ankle straps.
Lottie had bought the shoes from some old lady whoād been selling them for a couple of dollars back in Louisiana ā when she asked her why she was selling them so cheap, since they were so new, sheād told her that they belonged to her daughter, whoād run away. The dress and bow, however, was a gift from her Pa for her last birthday, and the tights from her Ma. As for the earrings she was to wear, theyād be the usual pearl ones she wore every other time. Lottie looked over all of these things, standing in only her panties and bra in the middle of her room and ignoring the glaring fact she was wearing a matching set for some reason. And that sheād taken her mamaās special scented soap to shower that afternoon.
Now, there was only one question that remained: how in the name of God was Lottie going to sneak out? Sheād ask Robert, her brother, to cover for her ā but Robert didnāt want her anywhere near Ray. She could try and fake being sick and not wanting to be bothered, but the sun was setting and she hadnāt looked that bad for the majority of the day, instead moving in a moronic, lovestruck daze because of what Ray had done the night prior.
āI hope you havenāt started smokinā, Lottie,ā her Pa had commented, as she read some books and hummed. āYou sound damn near euphoric.ā
āIām just in a good mood, Pa.ā Sheād replied softly, grinning stupidly. Thankfully, Robert had been working at the library ā otherwise, heād have definitely worked out what was going on.
But that wasnāt the issue now. The issue was finding a way to get out of her room and into the local recreational center in the next hour ā the sun was setting fast and Lottie didnāt want to be late for a party Ray had been so insistent she come to. She wasnāt one to turn or let down a friend, right?
Sighing and trying to think of an idea, Lottie turned down her dingy little radio and paced around the room. Then it came to her:
āIāll just wait for Ma and Pa to fall asleep!ā She said to herself, smacking her forehead before sitting on her bed and watching the gap under the door. When the light in the hallway switched off, that meant that they were asleep. Robert usually passed out on the living room floor after sneaking some of Paās cigars.
She sat criss - cross applesauce on her bed then, listening to her mother and father talk among themselves, hoping theyād get tired soonā¦
Ray Garraty stood awkwardly at the entrance to the local recreational town center ā at the side of the double - door entrance was a banner that read YOUTH SOCIAL GATHERING - RAYMOND GARRATYāS EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY PARTY. To the side of this poorly made banner was a member of the Squads, their eyes concealed with sunglasses not to too different to that of the Majorās, a carbine held steadily in her arms. It was a woman, Ray thought, glancing at her stone - cold expression, and she looked no - nonsense. Everyone that was in the Squads looked no - nonsense, anyway. Sheād shoot anyone that got much too rowdy or revolutionary for the Majorās liking. A Squad member was required to be at very social gathering in America, to regulate things.
So far, about twenty people had entered the center, and Ray only knew about five of them personally. He knew not everybody was here for him; they were here to have fun, to unwind, to party. And parties were rare. Not banned, like most music and books and things, but rare. Mostly because it took hell to organize, but Rayās dad, William Garraty, had been absolutely determined to make sure his son had a birthday party. Said all drunk, over a glass of beer, that Ray would celebrate, have something William had had when he was younger, before the Major.
As the days passed, Ray had noticed a change in his fatherās drinking habits ā they had always been in the background, like persistent ringing in your ears after listening to loud music, but alright if you ignored it. He wasnāt too much of a mean drunk, heād never hit Ginnie or Ray. But he was starting to get more and more bold with his views; to Ginnieās alarm, he was found one night discussing it with one of his work friends over the phone.
āWill!ā Sheād hissed, snatching the phone from him and hanging it on the cradle. āAre you insane?! Your call couldāve been intercepted at any time, and the Major could come knockingāā
āGin, I told you, I have it under fuckinā control,ā heād slurred back, close to giggling ā Ray, whoād been cleaning his baseball bat and humming to himself, stopped as he stared at his parents. His father hadnāt been known to swear at his mother, and Ginnieās face hardened at him before walking to their bedroom.
āGin!ā William called after Ginnie, before glancing back at Ray. āAh, Christ ā Ginnie, Iām sorry, alright?ā
Ray had only watched quietly as his father walked after Ginnie, apologizing profusely ā but he got the uncomfortable sense that his mother was right. That she wasnāt just nagging for naggingās sake.
His father was doing something dangerous. Showing Ray the old ways.
āHey, if it aināt Ray the greatest!ā
Ben Millerās voice pulled Ray out of his train of memory, and back to the present ā he was wearing a suit that looked one size too big (impressive, considering his size) and had a pretty girl on his arm. She wore a plain checkered dress with white pumps, her blonde hair curled (most likely by empty coke cans, heat curlers cost a fortune) and sparkly lip gloss on her lips. Her cheeks were powdered pink. Ray also had no idea who she was.
āHey, Ben.ā Ray said, before nodding at the girl. āGood evening.ā
āThe turnout looks good,ā Ben said, his eyes flicking to the Squad member momentarily. āSeems like a lot of people want to celebrate you, Garraty.ā
āA lot of people want to party, Ben ā you and I know that,ā Ray replied, scratching his neck and looking around. āYou seen, uh⦠anyone else come this way?ā
āIf youāre asking about your girl, no I havenāt.ā Ben said slyly. Ray turned beet red as Benās girl started checking her nails, bored.
āWhat?ā
āOh, that bird Lottie Green.ā Ben specified, narrowing his eyes at Ray. Ray furrowed his brow. Benās voice sounded teasing, but it felt like there was an undercurrent of something else.
āWhat about her?ā Ray asked, feeling defensive. āSheās not my girl, but we are friends ā do you have a problem with that?ā
āWhoa, Garraty,ā Ben threw up his hands in mock - surrender. āDown, boy. Iām only saying. You two look mighty close.ā
āYeah, whatever.ā Ray said, looking away and down the road ā it was almost dark, and he hadnāt properly started the party because Lottie hadnāt come. There was plenty chatter from inside ā people were getting antsy, and the Squad member hovering around was making everyone uncomfortable.
Ray himself was starting to feel sweaty, the suit his father lent him making him feel all bulky and awkward. It was a three piece brown suit with a striped tie and a lapel collar, with long sleeves and cuffs. There would be a matching brown waistcoat underneath if he took off the blazer, though he wasnāt sure why he was thinking of taking off clothes on the night of his eighteenth birthday. He felt like he looked stupid anyway. His father had called the suit a āGary Valentine.ā Whatever that meant.
After Ben had bothered Ray for a couple more minutes and finally went inside, Ray checked the time on his watch ā it was 9.05 pm. The local council had said that they were only permitted to party until ten thirty, then everybody had to go home. Heād have to start the party sooner or later, Ray thought, casting another worried look around. Lottie still hadnāt come.
āCome onā¦ā he whispered to no one in particular, tapping his hand against his leg. āCāmon, Lottie, come onā¦ā
The road leading to the center remained empty, and Ray sighed deeply before turning around and walking inside.
The inside of the recreational center was, like most buildings, dingy and run - down. There were attempts to make the place look less miserable with cheap decorations like party streamers and confetti, but one could still see the peeling paint if they looked close enough. There was a snacks table (with minimal to no alcohol) and chips, but if you looked too closely youād see the half - broken table leg.
The people that had come (and they were many) were standing around the dance floor awkwardly, everyone waiting for the music to start and chattering among themselves quietly. Per the rules, the host had to permit the party to truly āstartā.
Ray kept his head down as he walked up to the DJ (who was a cheap hire by his dad and government - approved), a janky looking guy he didnāt care to know the name of.
āYou ready?ā The DJ asked lazily, looking at Ray with mild interest. He couldnāt be much older than twenty. Ray, casting one last glance to the doorway, nodded. The DJ nodded before picking up the microphone.
āAlright, whoās ready to party?ā
There were some scattered cheers.
āI said,ā the DJ repeated, raising his voice. āWhoās ready to par - taaaay?!ā
There were more enthusiastic cheers now, and Ray laughed at some of the guys hooting and jostling one another; the DJ himself seemed to be pumped up.
āAlllll - righty then!ā He yelled into the mic, among excited cheers. āLetās get it on!ā
He pressed play, and the jaunty beat of the song Thatās the Way (I Like It) by KC and the Sunshine Band came on. People cheered, coupling up on the dance floor and beginning to dance. Girls danced mostly in tune, their hair swishing as the boys twisted and twirled them around. Some people had even started to laugh as they danced, their previous awkwardness dissipating into the air. One girl had gotten bold, letting herself be swung around.
āOh, that's the way, uh-huh, uh-huh
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh
That's the way, uh-huh, uh-huh
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huhā¦ā
Ray slowly walked away from the DJās table then, still taking in the scenery ā he liked the song, but he found himself not wanting to dance. Lottie, as he could clearly see, wasnāt here yet. He wondered if her dad had found out she was going to sneak out, and if heād gotten her into trouble. He furrowed his brow in worry, hoping fervently that wasnāt the case ā
āWhen you take me by the hand
Tell me I'm your lovin' man
When you give me all your love
And do it, babe, the very best you canā¦ā
And there was another thing ā Ray could dance, somewhat. He could do the rhumba and cha-cha, skills he had learned on endless Saturday mornings at Mrs. Amelia Dorgens's School for Modern Dance... that had been his mother's idea, one he had kept telling her was a bad and annoying one. Ginnie had stuck to her guns, thank God ā but he was a mess when it came to dancing in public, in front of other people, in front of a girl he wanted to impress⦠heād been able to teach Jan when she and him were a thing, but he hadnāt really liked Jan much beyond being friends, so that didnāt count.
āOh, that's the way, uh-huh, uh-huh
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh
That's the way, uh-huh, uh-huh
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huhā¦ā
Ray was now at the refreshments table, sipping on some punch and watching a couple dance so aggressively that five meters of space had to be allowed for them so they didnāt punch anyone in the face. He giggled when he saw that it was Ben and his girl.
āThat's the way, uh-huh, uh-huh
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh
That's the way, uh-huh, uh-huh
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huhā¦ā
This song was really repetitive, huh? Ray thought, sipping on his punch some more, looking around ā there was a girl dancing by herself, who locked eyes with him. Ray quickly looked back into his punch upon doing so, because she tried to advance to him ā she looked like a wild flamingo when she danced, and it took everything in Ray not to laugh. Where the hell was Lottie?
āWhen I get to be in your arms
When we're all, all alone
When you whisper sweet in my ear
When you turn, turn me onā¦ā
Rayās eyes did another lazy sweep across the room, landing on the door ā he almost spat out his punch.
There was Lottie.
She was wearing a yellow party dress, patterned with flowers of many colors ā her hair, which had been left out in an Afro, had been given a side - part. A bow which matched her dress rested in her hair, and her shimmery tights gave her legs a bedazzling, sparkly look; like Tinkerbell herself had cast a spell on her. She had a sort of sparkly eyeshadow, as well ā her lips seemed to have a sort of twinkly gloss applied to them. Her heels, Mary Jane pumps, seemed to be polished to perfection. Her dark and lovely skin, even under the low disco light, shone nevertheless. She looked just like a dream to Ray, the prettiest girl hed ever seen.
The other guests were having fun, laughing and dancing, so no one paid Lottie much mind; she was looking around frantically ā Ray realized with a start that she was looking for him. Without thinking, he set down his cup of punch; twisting and turning through the moving crowd, just to get to her.
āSorry ā excuse me ā Iām so sorry, I just need to ā Lottie!ā
Ray called out Lottieās name once heād finally made it to the door, and the smile she gave Ray upon seeing him was radiant.
āRay!ā She hugged him, and Ray found himself taking in her scent ā she smelled like flowers and cinnamon and cocoa all mixed together. āHappy birthday!ā
āThank you!ā He yelled back at her ā the music was close to deafening. She nodded, eyes sparkling before digging in her handbag for something.
āI made you somethinā, jumper!ā She replied, before bringing out a handkerchief; it was intricately embroidered with flowers and butterflies. Ray took it, his cheeks turning a pleased pink as he saw that she had sewed in his name, as well : Property of Raymond Garraty, all in cursive.
āI hope you like it!ā Lottie yelled over the music once more. āI worried youād think it was too girly or somethinā, but I couldnāt really afford to āā
The rest of Lottieās sentence was lost as Ray hugged her ā she almost fell over with the force of the hug, laughing out loud. His thumb rubbed circles into her back as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.
āThank you, Lottie ,ā he said, his voice all muffled. āNo oneās gotten me a gift apart from my parents.ā
Lottie hugged him back, ignoring some of the looks they were getting. āThatās quite all right, Ray.ā She replied, before drawing back and taking him in. āYou look great!ā
āThanks!ā He replied breathlessly, taking in Lottieās appearance once more. āYou look⦠Christ, you look beautiful, Lottie.ā
Ray felt himself getting heady, offering Lottie a hand as he put the handkerchief into his back pocket. āCare to dance?ā
Lottie laughed, taking his hand. āCan you dance?ā
āCan I?ā Ray repeated incredulously, smiling widely ā Lottie could see his chipped front tooth, and liked him all the more for it. āWell, I guess weāll have to have to find out.ā
āYou canāt, can you?ā Lottie said, still chuckling. Ray shrugged.
āNo, but Iāll try!ā
Ray then gently pulled Lottie with him onto the dance floor. Just then, the song changed ā You Never Can Tell by Chuck Berry started playing,and Lottieās face lit up.
āOh, I love this song!ā She gushed, before slowly starting to dance around Ray, wiggling her eyebrows teasingly. Ray snickered as she started to shimmy around him, slowly circling him.
āYou look crazy, Lottie,ā he said, in between laughs. āWhat are you doing?ā
āYou could see that Pierre did truly love the Mademoiselleā¦ā Lottie mouthed along to the lyrics, winking. āCome on, Ray, dance! Itās your birthday, for cryinā out loud!ā
āAnd now the young Monsieur and Madame have rung the chapel bellā¦ā Chuck Berry sang joyfully, as Ray slowly started to copy Lottieās movements, half - stumbling and giggling in disbelief at himself.
āThere you go!ā Lottie yelled over the music, grinning as she danced closer to Ray ā he suddenly took her for a spin, and she laughed in surprise.
ā"C'est la vie" say the old folks, It goes to show you never can tell!ā Ray dipped Lottie then, the latter squealing from surprise.
āDid I hurt you?ā Ray said breathlessly, as they came back up. Lottie shook her head, her face flushed.
āNo, Ray! Youāre a riot!ā Lottie yelled. Ray grinned at that, and Lottie separated from him then, doing the Bus Stop dance, a two - step. Ray nodded along, doing it with her in sync.
āThey had a hi-fi phono boy did they let it blast?ā
Lottie then twirled in complete joy, her flowery skirt swishing around her as her face became more and more delighted; Ray paused then, watching her for a moment. She was so radiant, so beautiful, that he couldnāt help himself ā he caught her by the hand and pulled her flush against him; she let out a sound of surprise, giggling to herself.
āSeven hundred little records all rock, rhythm, and jazzā¦
But when the sun went down the rapid tempo of the music fellā¦ā
āYou look like youāre having fun, Ray,ā Lottie said breathlessly, looking up at him ā her eyes, in the low light, shone. āAre you?ā
Ray stared down at her, his face becoming redder by the moment, the song still playing joyously in the background.
"C'est la vie" say the old folks, It goes to show you never can tellā¦ā the song faded as he gazed at her, their dancing slowing down.
āMore than you know.ā He said finally, and Lottie smiled.
āAlright, ladies and gentlemen,ā the DJ said then, and the song faded. āTime to get⦠a little romantic up in here. Grab your lady, or grab your man ā itās time to āā he snapped his fingers, clearly more relaxed than he had been at the start of the party. āSlow dance!ā
āOh.ā Charlotte breathed, suddenly looking anxious. She looked back at Ray, heat creeping up her neck. āRay, are you sure you want to āā
Slowly, gently, Ray lifted her left arm to rest on his shoulder ā before taking her other hand in his.
āYes, Lottie,ā he said softly, just as āOh My Angelā by Bertha Tillman started to play. āIād love to.ā
Lottie smiled at him.
āOh, my Angelā¦ā Tillman crooned, and Ray thought Lottie was just that, an Angel. Lottie blinked up at him, quiet as everyone around them started to slow down, pulling their dates closer.
āCome back to meā¦ā
āYāknow, Iāve never really slow danced before,ā Lottie said after a few long moments, avoiding Rayās eye. āIāve only seen my Ma and Pa do it when they thought me and Robbie were sleeping.ā
āReally?ā Ray asked as they swayed.
āMhm. I always thought it was so lovely, you know⦠I never thought āā she chuckled nervously. āI never thought Iād do it myself one day.ā
āWhyās that?ā Asked Ray, his voice soft. The way he spoke made Lottieās stomach do a backflip.
āBecause ā oh golly, is it hot in here? Do you feel hot? Iām boilinā.ā She couldnāt look Ray in the eye to save her life, fanning herself with one hand.
Ray made a mock - pondering face, looking up and shaking his head before looking back at Lottie. āNo, I donāt feel any warmer. Maybe itās the company.ā
āAre you flirtinā with me, jumper?ā Lottie asked then, laughing nervously and feeling her hands get clammy. Ray shrugged, smiling.
āMay - be.ā He drew out the word. Lottie felt that feeling down below then, the one she was sure was sinful ā but for once, she didnāt care.
Lottie looked him in the eye then. āIām older than you, you know.ā
āBy around three weeks.ā Ray reminded her, raising his eyebrows. She laughed.
āā¦consumes my happinessā¦ā the song continued in the background.
āAnd,ā Lottie added, after a few long moments. āIām definitely cooler than you.ā
āIs that so?ā
āMhm. Bet you canāt quote Nietzsche off the top of your head.ā
āI can, actually.ā
āDonāt believe it.ā Lottie teased.
āWithout music,ā Ray then quoted, spinning Lottie gently before pulling her back in. āLife would be a mistake. Now your turn, Lottie.ā
āHmm,ā Lottie hummed, smirking. āIt is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.ā
āAh, smart,ā Ray nodded, making Lottie giggle. āVery intelligent ā but I donāt need you to tell me whether Iām cool or not, old lady.ā
āWhat was that?ā Lottie asked, raising an eyebrow and barely repressing her laughter.
āI said milady āā Ray started.
āHm?ā
āI said milady, I said milady āā he repeated, wrapping his arm around Lottieās waist then and pulling her flush against him, close enough to kiss. āMy lady... I donāt need you to tell me whether Iām cool or not.ā Ray said, raising his eyebrows as Lottie smirked at him.
āHm.ā She hummed. They were barely swaying now. āIām cooler than you, jumper. And you have a chipped tooth.ā
Ray chuckled. āI noticed.ā
They continued to sway then, Lottie resting her head on his shoulder; and Ray knew he was going to try and do it ā do what heād wanted to do with Lottie since forever.
āLottie.ā He whispered, soft as a feather. āLottie.ā
āHmm?ā Lottie looked up at Ray.
āCan I show you something?ā He asked, taking her by the hand.
āOh! Wellā¦ā she then looked around ā everyone else was still dancing, not many eyes on them. The Squad member assigned to watch over the party was dozing off in the corner. She looked back to him and nodded, smiling.
āGreat.ā Ray breathed, leading Lottie by the hand through the crowd. They deftly weaved between swaying couples, Lottie grinning at the mystery of what Ray wanted to do.
āAnd I will love you⦠till eternity.ā The song faded out just as Ray found the back door, opening it for Lottie and letting her pass through before shutting it behind him. Outside was cold, the crickets chirping. Lottie hadnāt brought a jacket, and shivered slightly. Ray saw.
āOh, are you cold?ā He asked. Lottie straightened up then, shaking her head while trying to smile.
āNo, jumper, Iām āā
āHere.ā Ray took off his blazer then, and draped it around her shivering frame. Lottie noticed had a matching brown waistcoat underneath his blazer, and thought it nice.
āThank you, Ray,ā she said then, wrapping the large jacket around her. āMy, this is big.ā
Rayās face fell then, and Lottie noticed.
āNot that thereās anythinā wrong with being big, of course ā I think big things are swell.ā
Rayās face then turned red, and he coughed ā Lottie blinked before realizing how she sounded.
āI ā I mean ā oh no, not like that!ā She was blushing furiously.
āN - no, of course, I wasnāt thinking āā
āI wasnāt talking about āā
āNo, youāre alright āā
āOf course, of courseā¦ā
The two teenagers then fell silent, staring at each other, before bursting into laughter.
āOh my goodness,ā Lottie said in-between laughs. āRay, what are we doing?ā
āNo idea,ā he replied, his voice cracking as he continued to laugh. āNo fucking idea.ā
āThe feelingās mutual.ā Lottie said, wiping a tear from her eye as the laughter died down.
āHow did you even get out of your house?ā Ray asked, grinning at Lottie. āDid your dad come around?ā
āMy Pa will never come around, jumper ā I waited till everyone fell asleep before I snuck out of my window.ā She said, her cheeks flushed. Her scar stood out in the moonlight, making her even more beautiful to Ray. āI feel all scandalous.ā
āIs that so?ā Ray replied, teasing. āGuess we have an outlaw here now.ā
Lottie pushed Ray, giggling. āShut up.ā
āNo, you shut up.ā Ray said, pushing her back.
āYouāre stupid, Ray.ā Lottie said, still chuckling ā everything to her, in this moment, was absolutely hilarious.
āStupid in love with you.ā Ray replied.
They both stopped laughing.
Lottie blinked at Ray, her face feeling so warm you couldāve fried an egg on it and called it a true American breakfast. āWhat?ā
Ray started to panic. This wasnāt how it was supposed to go, this wasnāt ā
āRay?ā
āU - uhā¦ā he stuttered, his face reddening.
āRaymond, are you okay?ā Lottie said worriedly.
Ray knew it was now or never; he could pretend he hadnāt said anything, or do what he came here to do, there was no way he could go back now, no time to think or backtrack or even ā
āRay, should I āā
Lottieās speech was cut off as Ray took two steps forward, held her face, and kissed her.
Her lips were soft, like heād always dreamed, and for a moment, he felt her kiss him back ā then he pulled away, frightened.
āIām sorry, I shouldnāt have done that,ā he panted, face flushed. Lottieās face was stunned and flustered. āI shouldāve asked you, I shouldāve āā
The rest of his sentence was lost as Lottie threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back ā Ray responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted her off her feet, hugging her waist. He then pushed her against the wall, still kissing her feverishly, so intensely she had no time to kiss him back.
āRay āā she gasped, as he moved to kissing her neck. āAre you sureā ā
āIāve never been so sure of anything in my life.ā he muttered against her neck, returning to Lottieās lips ā when he did so, she whimpered, prompting him to kiss her harder. Lottieās mind was whirling with thoughts, all types of sensations, all of which were sinful, but she didnāt care, running her hands through Rayās hair as he kissed her, his hands still clutching her waist ā
Then, madly in that moment, her brotherās words from church came back to her, his warning about what this could mean.
āAnd then heāll go on that death march and you know, you know thereās a high chance he could have his brains on the sidewalkā¦ā
Lottie tried to block out Robertās words, pulling Ray closerā¦
āThen youāll be alone.ā
No, Lottie thought, still kissing Ray. No, not now ā
āWidowed at nineteen.ā
Stop.
āIs that what you want, Charlotte?ā
Stop it.
The memory of Anthony flashed through her head, his song, him not being around ā
No.
āIs that what you fuckinā want?ā Robertās voice echoed, and Lottie couldnāt take it anymore ā
āSTOP!ā
Lottie pushed Ray away then, her chest heaving as he widened his eyes, panicked.
āLottie?ā He breathed, his lips swollen and face flushed red as he stared at her, alarmed. Lottie felt involuntary tears spring to her eyes. āWhatās wrong? Did I do something? Do you need āā
āNo, itās āā she broke off, her voice cracking. āIām sorry, jumper, this was ā this was a mistake.ā
Ray paled. āWhat?ā
āI shouldnāt have come out here,ā she shook her head, tears starting to roll down her face. āI shouldnāt have snuck out⦠Iām sorry, Rayā¦ā Lottie started to break into sobs, touching her scar.
āNo, Lottie,ā Ray stepped towards her cautiously, shaking his head, āitās my fault, I shouldnāt have kissed you ā are you okay?ā
āIām fine,ā Lottie said, her voice choked. She was clearly not fine. āI⦠Iāve got to go, Raymond.ā
āWhat?ā Ray said, confused. āBut thereās still a good thirty minutes āā
āI said I have to go, alright?ā Lottie said harshly. Ray stepped back, hurt.
āRight. Iām sorry. Lottie, do you need me to walk you home?ā
āNo, I can get back fine.ā She sniffled. āIām sorry, Ray ā I gave you the wrong message.ā
āLottie āā
But before Ray could finish his sentence, Lottie had started walking away ā her pearl earrings bounced as she left Ray behind, not noticing she was still clutching his coat, only thinking of her eldest brother Anthony and the way heād left them all behind, even Lilith, not sticking around to advise Lottie or stay that steady figure on her life, not sticking around for anyone or anything, not staying for his baby sister, but haunting every waking day of her goddamn life. Who was she kidding? She thought, touching her scar ā Robert was right. She didnāt want to bother Ray anymore. This was stupid. She was stupid. How easy could she be? One kiss from the freckled red - head boy, and she had melted in his armsā¦
This wasnāt a fairytale, Lottie thought, shaking her head. People would talk. They always would.
Sheād been idiotic to think any of this was more than a dream. A fantasy. But she still sobbed all the way home; still wiped her tears as she climbed through her room window and into bed, still clutched Rayās jacket close to her chest as she fell asleep, still inhaled the scent of rain, cookies and leather.
Still wanted Ray to be the one beside her.
Still wanted her jumper.
***
A/N: uuuhhhh how you guys feeling about this chapter? I donāt know if I gave Ant too much backstory or if you guys liked it⦠feedback, pleaseā¦
Until next time :) unless I randomly abandon this project out of fear of it being fucking abysmal š
Richard my beloved if only you knew how bad your ankle would hurt later in life, the concept of Richard, Lottie and Clementine all meeting in childhoodš„¹. I love how you wrote the dance scene, I love how you right then overall. I feel like some writes forget their writing teenagers (or high school aus) and make them these suave, dirty talking men; like no their hormonal, awkward cornballs. Love Ant and Lilithās back, he reminds me of some of Scramm a bit
Summary: Ray and Lottie fool around a little in church. Lottie gets a reality check, and Ray gets... desperate.
Click here for the previous chapter
Word count: 6,465 words (sorry)
Warnings: (Iām atheist, formerly Christian; the main pairing donāt take the church service seriously), Ray is really, really horny in this one, a little gavries, use of a dated term for a Black person, by a Black person (Iām black myself), internalized and external homophobia, sexual shaming of women (briefly), racial tension, use of the word queer, some sexual shame from Lottie. Brief description of gore.
Comment if you want to be added to the tag list, sweetie ( Ė Ā³Ė)ā„ļø
It should also be noted that this fic takes place in the year leading up to the movieās events. It is, for the most part, a prequel.
A/N: I had to reduce the mention of the character Art Baker in this chapter due to the recent disgusting behavior of his actor, Tut Nyuot. Art has one line of dialogue. If you do not want to see this, you may click off of this chapter. My heart, yet again, goes out to Zƶe.
[divider is mine]
āI canāt believe you still need me to do this.ā
āMom.ā
āI mean, youāre almost eighteen!ā
āMom.ā
āYou should know how to tie a tie by now.ā
Ray gently smacked his motherās hands away from his tie, giving her a look. āIf youāre gonna complain about it so much, I might as well do it by myself.ā
Ginnie Garraty sighed, rolling her eyes and putting her hands on her hips. āIām just saying, you should know howāā
āLet the boy breathe a little, Gin.ā William Garraty said from Rayās bedroom doorway, smiling a bit. Ray smiled back. āLike you said ā heāll be eighteen soon, and heāll find a ladyāā
āDad, stop.ā Ray groaned, covering his face with his hands. Ginnie laughed, and William smiled even wider as he went on.
āGet marriedā¦ā
āDad.ā
āGive us a bunch of grandkidsā¦ā
āDad, quit it.ā
āThough by what Iām seeing nowadays,ā William continued, tapping his chin with his index finger and looking up at the ceiling. Ginnie was still giggling. āYouāre well on your way to having a lady, son.ā
āItās not like that.ā Ray replied, turning to his cracked bedroom mirror and trying to tie his tie on his own. His face looked all red and flushed. āMe and Lottie are just friends.ā
āI donāt recall your father even mentioning her name.ā Ginnie mused, laughing when William pressed a kiss to her temple. āYou seem so guilty already.ā
āHa - ha, Mom.ā Ray said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. āIāll be down in a minute, you two can go and sit in the car.ā
Today was the last Sunday before Ray Garraty turned eighteen, and the first Sunday that Lottie told him her family was going to come to the local church.
āMy Pa was skeptical about cominā,ā she had told him, her voice smooth like butter. Theyād been lying on the grassy floor. The Long Walk for that year had started, and neither of them had been watching. āBut my Ma said sheās tired of sittinā at home very Sunday and praying by herself.ā
āReally?ā Ray had replied, looking at her profile as she stared up at the tree they were lying under. She turned to him.
āMhm,ā sheād hummed. āIāll see you on Sunday, jumper.ā
Their arms, which had been almost completely engulfed by the grass they were lying on, had been unconsciously moving closer and closer to one another. Their hands were almost touching, and neither of them had spoken about it. Butterflies flew around the pair, one gliding and landing softly on Lottieās nose.
Her eyes widened as its wings moved slowly, and her eyelashes fluttered with each beat. Ray was staring at her, eyes sparkling. She laughed softly.
āIād best not move, jumper.ā Lottie whispered, smiling. āThis⦠this is really special. I might write about it in my novel.ā
āYour novel?ā
āMhm.ā
āWhatās it about? You never tell me.ā
āItās a ro - mance, Ray.ā Lottie drew out the word romance, eyes still on the butterfly. āA Romeo and Juliet type of thing⦠Iāll add in some comedy⦠be a little funny like Twain.ā
Ray let out a chuckle. āWrite like Twain, and youāll get your stuff banned ā wait.ā He sat up. āYouāve read Twainās stuff?ā
āYouāre not the only one who can get illegal stuff, Ray.ā She said, all sing - song. āMy Pa and⦠someone else used to have their ways, but they got scared of getting caught, so they quit it. But I got a few pages in. Got music too, I dance to it real low at night.ā
āMusic?ā Ray had repeated, feeling more and more in love with Lottie with each passing moment.
āMarvin Gaye, Nina Simone, all the artists who got banned by the Major as soon as they debuted.ā Lottieās eyes slid to Rayās. āI keep having to hide them, though. Canāt get caught. I rarely dance, too.ā
In that moment, Ray thought of what he planned to do for his birthday ā heād invited some of his guys to the local dancing center to celebrate, maybe bring their girls⦠he wanted to dance with Lottie too, but Robertās warning kept reverberating in his mind every time he even thought of asking her out.
āStay away from Charlotte.ā
But still, lying on the floor in that meadow, he and Lottieās hands had moved closer and closer to one another, until their pinkies touched. She didnāt turn to him, and he didnāt turn to her; they simply stared up at the tree and ignored what was growing between them.
Now, as Ray finally gave up on the tie he was to wear, he straightened out his shirt and tried to fix his hair (that damn cowlick)! And set out to the car.
āAbout time,ā William said, clearing his throat as Ray sat inside and slammed the car door shut. It wouldnāt close if you didnāt slam it. āWas thinking that youād drifted into a daydream about the little Green lady.ā
āDad!ā Ray hissed, while Ginnie laughed. But as they pulled out of the driveway, Ray felt a sense of relief; his parents teasing him made it clear that they were not āthat typeā ā not that they had been like that over the years ā but their acceptance of Lottie was an indicator she wouldnāt feel uncomfortable if things got far enough with her. William and Ginnie Garraty were many things, but they were not racists.
As the car drove to church however, Rayās mind slid to Jan. He furrowed his brow as he remembered their last conversation with one another; how painfully understanding sheād been. Heād been messing around with her before Lottie moved into town, and they hadnāt really defined their relationship⦠but after Lottie came around, Ray knew he didnāt want to string Jan along or anything like that.
āHey, Janice.ā Heād come up to her while she was packing away some of her books into her locker, her long shimmery hair gleaming under the flickering hallway lights. Sheād looked at him and gave him a small smile.
āHi, Ray,ā she said, sweetly. āWhatās up?ā
āI, uhā¦ā Ray swallowed and looked around, and Jan furrowed her brow. āI need to talk to you about āā
āIs it about the new girl?ā Jan asked suddenly. Ray startled a bit, surprised; then realized hanging out with Lottie more and more was becoming noticeable. He tried to read Janās expression. He couldnāt.
āLook,ā he said, after two long beats. āThe stuff weāve been doing⦠I donāt really want to do it anymore.ā
The noise of the bustling school hallway around them couldāve muffled Rayās voice, but he knew Jan had heard him loud and clear. She blinked, and then smiled.
āThatās alright.ā
Ray couldnāt believe it. āReally?ā
āYeah,ā Jan shrugged, shutting her locker door and shouldering her bag. āI mean, youāre sweet and all, Ray, but we werenāt anything serious; you never looked at me the way you look at Green. Iām happy for you two.ā
Ray turned red, shaking his head. āOh no, weāre not ā weāre not datingāā
āHmm.ā Jan hummed, staring at him closely. āAlright. But be careful.ā
āWhat?ā Ray said, immediately becoming defensive.
āPeople have their eyes on you.ā She elaborated, before looking around. āBoth of you. Be careful if you donāt want Charlotte to get hurt.ā
Before Ray could ask what Jan meant, sheād seen one of her girlfriends, some bird named Priscilla, and left.
Now, Ray turned he and Janās supposed breakup over in his head. he was glad Jan wasnāt the screaming resentful type, but she and Robertās warnings kept echoing in his head. Like it or not, they both did have a point. Loving v. Virginia was what, seven or eight years ago? Segregation in schools was even lesser; he wouldnāt have even known Lottie around five years ago ā they wouldāve gone to completely different schools. And she never spoke about it, but apart from him, Lottie didnāt have many friends. She mostly kept to herself in the library, or worked on that novel she wouldnāt let him see.
Ray frowned to himself, almost rolling his eyes at the idiocy of it all; he wished he could just be with Lottie with no problems ā but itād never be that easy. Heād be stupid to think it would be.
But Ray was stubborn. So he would try. Heād invite her to his party, and heād dance with her, and sheād tell him more about that novel he wanted to read, and then heād take her out back, and heād kiss, kiss, kiss herā¦
āWeāre here!ā Williamās voice broke Ray out of his fantasy, and he jolted as the car sputtered to a stop. The soft singing voices of the church choir wafted out to the Garratys, and William cursed softly. They were late.
āChrist, Mrs Morrison is gonna be talking.ā He muttered. Ginnie gently smacked him on the arm.
āOw!ā
āNo saying the Lordās name in vain outside of His house,ā she scolded, rolling her eyes and getting out of the car. William turned back to Ray, pointing to his own head and make a winding motion with his index finger. Ray snorted, getting out of the car with his father. He didnāt believe in God, and neither did Ray, but they believed in Ginnie. And Ginnie liked church.
The church was nice enough; a wooden white one, painted by the younger boys in town a few years back. It wasnāt too rickety ā plenty people had offered to fix up any holes or imperfection in the building. There were three wooden steps to the front porch, and two grand oak doors. The sign read Portervilleās Catholic Church. Very original.
His father told Ray that it was an old church, a pre - Major one. On the right side of the entrance was a blackboard detailing what todayās lesson was and the Bible verses used as reference, and any other church meetings happening that week; today the lesson wasnāt clearly stated, but the Bible verses were. Ray stared at the scrawled on Matthew 5:28, 1 John 2:16, and Colossians 3:5. He rarely read the Bible, so he didnāt know what that all meant. Maybe Lottie would. The shape of her plump lips and her chest came to mind, and he shook his head violently. The voices singing the opening hymn came clearer now.
āOh Lord, my God
When I, in awesome wonder
Consider all the worlds Thy hands have made
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder
Thy power throughout the universe displayedā¦ā
Ray inwardly cringed; he hated singing hymns in church, and he didnāt like singing in general. Ginnie put her hand on the churchās door and pushed it open; almost the whole town was in church on Sundays. Ben Miller, who had once drawn an intricate illustration of a penis on the churchās black board back in 9th grade, was in the second row pew with his family, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Some other kids from school were scattered here and there with their families, all of them singing along to the hymn.
āThen sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee
How great Thou art, how great Thou art
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee
How great Thou art, how great Thou artā¦ā
āRay.ā Ginnie hissed, as Ray craned his neck around to see if he could find Lottie. āRaymond.ā
āAnd when I think that God, His Son not sparing
Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in
That on the cross, my burden gladly bearing
He bled and died to take away my sinā¦ā
She had to be here somewhereā¦
āThen sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee
How great Thou art, how great Thou art
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee
How great Thou art, how great Thou artā¦ā
āRaymond Davis Garraty!ā Ginnie said finally, taking Rayās hand and leading him to a pew his father was already standing at. A little girl and her parents were at the same pew, the girl playing with a doll while her parents sung. āWhy were you just standing in the middle, looking around like that?!ā
āWhat?ā Ray replied stupidly, as people kept singing around them.
āWhen Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart
Then I shall bow, in humble adorationā¦ā
āSing, son.ā William whispered out the corner of his mouth, before singing along with the rest of the congregation. Ray rolled his eyes, sighing, before singing along.
āAnd then proclaim, my God, how great Thou art
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee
How great Thou art, how great Thou art
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee
How great Thou art, how great Thou art
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!ā
āThank you.ā Father Andrew said to everyone, before making the sign. Ray looked at the stained church windows, saw one of the baby angels and their round faces,and was reminded again of Lottie ā he looked around one last time and finally saw her.
Lottie was standing in the pew opposite theirs, on the other side of the aisle; her hair, usually like a cloud, had been flat ironed, resembling her motherās. It was long, Ray thought, staring ā so long it fell to her waist. He admired the way her hair worked. One moment it could be all puffed out and soft, and the next it could be all straight and fall below her shoulders. She wore white gloves and had a floral - patterned white shift dress, a singular daisy tucked behind her ear as she stared forward, looking terribly bored. Her round, soft cheeks had been powdered with a sort of dark - red blush, making them look rosier than usual; her lips shone with clear lip gloss. Ray wondered how sheād got her hands on those. Jan had always told him that those Maybelline things were expensive; but he reckoned the grocery store brought in enough money to buy it. Those pearl earrings she always wore dangled gently from her ears. Her dark brown skin shone under the lights of the church, and Ray swore he could smell her from his pew. Like honey, cocoa butter and flowers ā
āRay, what are you doing?ā William whispered. Ray startled ā around three or so people were staring at him. His father looked close to laughing. āAre you hungry? Youāve been sniffing the air for the past two minutes, son.ā
āWhat? No, I ā no.ā Ray said stupidly. He could see Robert, Lottieās older brother, glaring at him from behind their parents. He pointed at his eyes with two fingers before pointing at Ray warningly. Lottie seemed to turn to Rayās pew then, and her face lit up as she saw and gave Ray a little wave. Ray waved back, grinning, before Lottieās mother saw her daughter waving and pushed her hand down. Lottie frowned at her mom, before glancing at Ray again shyly and turning a reddish brown.
āWe may now say the Lordās Prayer,ā the priest said then, and everyone stood straight. āBegin. Our Fatherā¦ā
Ray chanted along, but he was looking at Lottie the whole time.
āā¦who art in heavenā¦ā
Lottie caught him looking and giggled behind her gloves before pointing at the pastor and mouthing āpay attentionā. Ray, shrugging, mouthed back āboring.ā She stifled another giggle.
āā¦thy will be done on earth, as it is in heavenā¦ā Ray finally started praying along, but loudly, and stupidly, all so he could make Lottie laugh. He got a few pokes from his mom while doing so but ignored her ā he glanced at Lottie and saw she was trying very hard to stifle her laughter, biting her lip and all.
āGive us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespassesā¦ā
Lottie dared to look at Ray again, and he made a face at her. She was fit to burst from laughter; it took one look from her mother to make her face neutral again.
āYou may all sit down.ā The priest said then, after completing the prayer: everyone in church sat in their seats, some teenagers audibly sighing in relief as they did so. Lottie brushed a strand of her straightened hair out of her face; she preferred the Afro, but her mother had insisted on straightening her hair this morning.
āBut Ma,ā Lottie had protested, as her mother heated up the hot comb. āMy hairās fine like this!ā
āWeāre going somewhere more formal, just iron it down for once, Lottie! You can keep it as you like any other day of the week!ā Marie had replied, and that was that.
Lottie had humphed and sat down while her mother used the hot comb on her hair, hissing when it got too close to her neck.
āOh, hush,ā her mother had said softly, combing Lottieās hair carefully. āYouāll be fine.ā
Now, in church, Lottie caught a lot of stares from the other girls; every time she looked back, they looked away. There was one girl, however, who continued to stare at Lottie. Her hair was short and red, and she was heavily freckled. She looked sweet, even smiling at Lottie. Lottie smiled back.
āToday,ā Father Andrew said loudly, standing at his pulpit and looking over everyone. āWe will be talking about the sin of lust.ā
Rayās face immediately warmed; heād been doing nothing but lusting for the last couple weeks. Thatās what those Bible verses had been about. Christ ā
āLust, in todayās world, is a very prevalent and problematic thing,ā the priest continued, shaking his head. āOur youth, especially the women āā he stole a glance at some of the teenage girls in the church, who had started fumbling. āHave taken to wearing⦠provocative clothing. To fornicating before marriage. To distracting our boys.ā
Charlotte repressed the urge to scoff; a man would be hungry for a woman like that even if she were fully covered.
āTurn to Matthew 5:28, everyone,ā there was the sound of rustling pages as members of the church obeyed; Lottie casting a glance to the red headed girl. She was already looking at Lottie, and made a face at the priest. Lottie stifled another bout of laughter, looking to her Bible. āIt reads: Anyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in their heartā¦ā
Ray swallowed as he stared at the words on the page ā if he was to even go over the thoughts heād had about Lottie over the past few weeksā¦
He glanced over to Lottie, and she was looking down, reading her Bible. Her hand slowly went up to her hair, tucking it behind her ear ā her neck, smooth and dark and lovely, was now exposed. Ray started to breathe heavily when she licked her lips in concentration, sighing deeply as her eyes ran over the page.
āAnd for our next verse, Iāll call on a member of the congregation to read it out loud ā one of our townās newest families may do so.ā The priest then said kindly, and Ray saw Lottieās mother nudge her gently. The latter rolled her eyes before standing up and looking to the priest for the verse.
ā1 John 2:16, if you will.ā He said, nodding. Charlotte smiled, nodding in return, before looking down and flipping to the verse in question.
āAll that is in the worldā¦ā Lottie cleared her throat as she spoke, and Ray stared at her body ā even through the shift dress, Ray could clearly see Lottie was curvy; she fanned herself with her hand as she spoke, her smooth, high voice making Ray subconsciously lean closer to hear.
āā¦the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of lifeāis not from the Father but is from the world.ā She completed, her hooded eyes running over the page; Ray swallowed as she did so. He was so, so hungry, and not for food. He was going to be eighteen tomorrow and the only present he wanted was Lottie. It was insane. This was insane. He was insane.
āAnother verse, young lady, if you will,ā father Andrew nodded. āYou have a good reading voice. Colossians 3:5.ā
Ray wanted to make that voice all raspy and breathless; wanted to press her against the wall and ā
No! He shook his head. Fuck, Garraty, fuck! What is wrong with you? Youāve turned into a wild animal!
āPut to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature,ā Charlotte recited, close to yawning. āā¦sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry.ā
āVery well done, Miss.ā Father Andrew said, and Lottie nodded before sitting back down in her seat. Ray stared at her as she did; his eyes drifted down to her smooth, shiny legs; she had a birthmark on one of them, her lower leg. At one point, she had stretched in her seat, and her skirt rode up. The flesh of her thigh was exposed. Soft, warm, and ā
āChrist.ā Ray breathed. His father, who was next to him, raised an eyebrow.
āWhat was that, Ray?ā He asked. Ray startled, blinking rapidly.
āU - uh, nothing!ā He whispered back, wiping sweat from his brow. āNothing, nothing.ā
After the service, as the church emptied out and people crowded around the pastor, Lottie found herself leaning against one of the church walls and staring into space. She was waiting for her mother and father to quit chatting to everyone so they could hurry up and go home; she was tired and wanted to take a long nap. She hadnāt been paying much attention when her older brother, Robert, sidled up to her, trying his best (and failing) to look discreet; he stood next to his little sister for a couple of minutes, observing all the chatter around them, before speaking.
āLottie, I need to talk to you about somethinā.ā He said finally, after a long beat of silence. Lottie rolled her eyes.
āI was hopinā you didnāt.ā
āLottie, Iām serious.ā He pressed, turning to her. Her arms were crossed.
āIāve got a real vague feeling I know what, or who, you wanna talk about.ā
Robert furrowed his brow, fully looking at Lottie. āItās about that white boy.ā
Lottie sighed, throwing her arms up. āHere we go.ā
āIām serious!ā
āYou know he has a name, right?ā Lottie replied, placing her hands on her hips. āRay? Raymond? Hell, Garraty?ā
āDonāt say hell in church.ā
āThatās not the point, and we both know it.ā Lottie sighed, rolling her eyes. āWhat? What is it that youāve got to say?ā
āLookā¦ā Robert sighed heavily, crossing his arms. āIāve already had a word with himāā
Lottieās jaw dropped. āWhat?ā
āā and I told him to stay away from you.ā He completed, ignoring her. āWhatever you two have got goinā on, isnāt good. This isnāt some fuckinā fairytale ā
āNo swearing in church.ā Lottie pointed out.
āā where heās your Prince Charming and youāre some pretty little princess thatāll marry him, and live in some house on the prairie and have your days out in peace. This is fucking America.ā Robert looked around at the bumbling congregation, leaning in and lowering his voice before continuing. āThe Majorās America.ā
āYou know what?ā hissed Lottie, whose face had become hot with anger and embarrassment. āIām not going to stand here, and āā
āWait.ā Robert grabbed Lottieās arm, and spoke with a hardness that sheād heard only once before; and that was from her eldest brother, Ant. And Anthony wasnāt quite around anymore. She stared at Robertās grip on her arm, and back to his face.
He was serious. Dead serious.
āCharlotte.ā He said her full name. āI care about you. As your brother, really, I do. And I want you to be happy. But Iāll tell you and Iāll tell you now, you canāt find happiness with Ray. Itās dangerous. Iāve seen how he is. Heās impulsive. Say you two did get it going, did get together.ā
āThatās not āā
āThis is a hypothetical.ā Robert said slowly, and firmly. Lottie shut up. āYou start courtinā. Fine. You get married. Legal, but frowned upon, because youāre of different races. Then, you move out of this town. Ray canāt get a job to support you, because people think heās sick in the head, for having a Negro wife.ā
āDonāt āā
āShut up, and listen. Ray gets desperate, because heās so in love with you, and canāt stand to see you try and scrape by. Maybe by this point yāall are nineteen. Heās young, and maybe in his own eyes, fit enough. He knows about the Long Walk, everybody knows about the Long Walk. He wonāt tell you, but heāll sign up for it. Just for a chance. One chance to give you a better life; because heād rather take that chance than divorce you just so he can get a mediocre fuckinā job. Maybe because to him, youāre better than mediocre. Youāre Lottie.ā
Robert was still gripping his sisterās arm, but his expression looked pained. āMy sister. So smart, and fuckinā stubborn. And then heāll go on that death march and you know, you know thereās a high chance he could have his brains on the sidewalk. Then youāll be alone. Widowed at nineteen. Is that what you want, Charlotte? Is that what you fuckinā want? Come on.ā
Lottie could see Ray not too far off, standing with his parents; he caught her eyes from across the room and raised his hand in a wave ā giving her a crooked smile. Lottie looked back at Robert. āHe hates the Walk.ā
Robert scoffed, laughing. āEverybody hates The Long Walk, Lottie. And people still sign up for it every year. Youāre smarter than that.ā
Lottie stared up at Robert for a long moment, before ripping her arm out of his grasp.
āFuck you, Robbie. Itās not even like that.ā
āThen why have you gotten so emotional, huh?ā Robert challenged, crossing his arms once more. āDid I shatter your little daydream?ā
āGo away.ā Lottie spat. āAnd donāt ask me to bake you any cookies when we get home, you jackass.ā
And with that, Lottie flounced off ā going out to the front porch of the church; Ray, who had been watching from across the room, made an excuse to his parents so he could go and follow her.
Lottie was furious; her vision was getting blurry, and face hotter by the second ā Robert didnāt know what he was talking about. It wasnāt even like that with Ray, she swore it wasnāt like that; yet everytime she saw him, her heart rate would increase ā sheād get a feeling down below whenever Ray would lean in closer to her to talk about something that was banned, or find herself staring whenever he lifted something heavy, his brows knitted in concentration and sheer effort.
It wasnāt like she hadnāt liked a boy before. Christ, she had; a boy back in Louisiana by the name Jefferson, who did heavy - lifting and winked at her when they passed each other in town, her first kiss under a dark sky ā but theyād moved away to this new place before that had gone anywhere. Jefferson was an acceptable match for her. But Jefferson didnāt give her this new, probably sinful feeling down below, Jefferson didnāt have a chipped front tooth and bright red hair and freckles all over, he didnāt get all nervous around her and blurt out ridiculous questions and aim spitballs at people who made fun of her in class, he didnāt remind her of a big cuddly bear, his eyes didnāt get all squinty when he laughed, that high, endearing laugh that Ray had. Jefferson didnāt jump into the air to catch her hat, Jefferson wasnāt her jumper. Jefferson wasnāt Ray Garraty. No one could be Ray Garraty apart from Ray himself. And Lottie realized then, when she had walked out far enough, walked to the edge of the lake outside church, that she had feelings for Ray Garraty. It had been a month and a week since theyād met, and she liked Ray.
āLottie?ā
Lottie startled, her body almost toppling over into the lake before two strong arms caught her around the waist; she was both horrified and relieved to see it was Ray. He had followed her out from the church, and she hadnāt noticed. She turned around to look at him fully. His arms were still around her waist.
āOh!ā Lottie breathed. āRay!ā
Ray chuckled softly. āYou say āohā a lot.ā
āShut up,ā she giggled, and Ray laughed as he withdrew his arms from her waist. Lottie found herself not wanting him to.
āSo, uh,ā Ray started awkwardly, gazing down at Lottie. āYou like the service? I saw you reading.ā
Heād more than seen her, a thought came into his mind unprompted, and he felt himself blushing. He wanted to fuā
āYeah, it was a bit nerve - wrackinā,ā Lottie replied, sighing. āI hope I wonāt have to do it often.ā
Ray laughed, silently praying for his face to stop being so goddamn red. āOh, really? I do.ā
āPardon?ā
āNothing.ā
The two stared at each other awkwardly, before looking away at the same time, shy.
āI, uhā¦ā Ray started, now realizing he had to ask Lottie to his birthday dance⦠thing. āI was wondering if you wanted to, yāknowā¦ā
āIf I wanted to what?ā Lottie asked innocently, stepping closer. Ray swallowed, sweating heavily.
āIfyouwantedtocomewithmetothedance.ā He said in a ramble. Lottie furrowed her brow.
āWhat?ā
āIfyouwantedtocometomybirthdayparty.ā
āRay, I canāt hear you. Youāre talking all fast, like a kangaroo.ā
āKangaroos canāt talk.ā
āYou know what I mean, jumper.ā
Ray sighed. āItās my birthday tomorrow.ā
āOh, right! I remember! I was wonderinā what you wanted as a presentā¦ā
āIt would beā¦ā Ray hesitated, his breaths feeling shallow. He was sure his pits were sweaty. āā¦a real good present if you came to my party. And danced with me.ā
There was a long, long beat of silence; Lottie stared up at Ray with an unreadable look on her face. Her eyes squinted even more, if that were possible.
āArenāt you gonna say anything?ā Ray asked, his voice cracking.
āWellā¦ā Charlotte hesitated, fanning herself with her gloved hand and not meeting Rayās eye. āGolly, Ray, Iā¦ā
āPlease.ā
āI donāt think I can, my Pa wouldnāt allow it ā and you know what people would say.ā
āPlease.ā
āRay, I canāt āā
āPlease.ā Ray took both of Lottieās gloved, dainty hands into his larger ones. āIāll make it worth your while.ā
āRay, donāt do this. I want to come, but I āā
āSo come.ā Ray pressed, clutching Lottieās hands tighter, but not to the point that it hurt, to the point that she felt his affection through the gesture. āCome and make the party fun. Come dance with me, Charlotte.ā He saw her almost giving in, almost leaning in, but she seemed to remember something and drew herself back, shaking her head rapidly.
āNo, Raymond, I canāt come. Iām sorry, alright?ā She said, all flustered.
āPlease.ā
āNo.ā
āPlease?ā
āNo, Ray.ā She said firmly, her face turning a deeper brown ā she was blushing. āStop.ā
Rayās shoulders sagged slightly, and he stared at Charlotte with pleading. Charlotte blushed even deeper, her face turning into a reddish - brown again.
āI ā Iām sorry, Ray, Charlotte said, seeing her familyās lav ing the church and probably looking for her. āIāve got to⦠go.ā
Then, unable to bear it, she slowly reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Rayās ear. His face turned a deep red; he was suddenly transported back to the present, on the Walk ā Pete McVries had just tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, smiling at him with that scar he and Lottie shared.
āYou were daydreaminā again, compadre,ā he said smoothly, grinning at Ray before turning to take in the scenery. āYour mind must be a fantastic place. Youāre always escapinā to it.ā
Ray stared at Pete, not replying, his cheeks feeling hot from his touch.
āWarning, 47, warning.ā
āHey.ā Pete said gently. āSpeed up, Ray.ā
āProverbs 13:4,ā Art Baker said from not too far off, walking beside Hank Olson. "The lazy man craves and gets nothing, but the diligent is rewarded.ā
āAh, Iām not a praying man, Baker,ā Ray said, finally getting to his senses. He wasnāt queer. Wasnāt queer for McVries. āAnd Iām not lazy.ā
āWhat does that mean, Parker?ā Ray asked, but Collie simply smirked to himself. Ray got more curious. āHey Parker, what does that mean? Parker. Parker.ā
āYou sound like a broken record.ā Harkness said, giggling.
āParker.ā
āHey, shut the fuck up, Garraty,ā Stebbins said, yawning. āIām sick of your voice.ā
Ray frowned again, but continued to persevere through the Walk. He gave Pete a sideways glance.
āYou said you wanted to be a songwriter,ā Ray huffed, looking out onto the horizon. āIf you get out of this⦠will you become a musician?ā
Pete thought for a long moment. āYāknow ā maybe I will, Ray.ā He gave him a look. āIāll write about my life and perform with a guitar⦠maybe even write about you.ā
He gently nudged Ray, and he laughed once more ā the thought of Lottie and Peteās hands on his hair made him flush a deeper red.
āWhyāre you blushing so much?ā Barkovitch called from ahead, turning to Ray and walking backwards. āYou a fuckinā queer? You queer for McVries? You a fāā
āHey, shut the fuck up, Barkovitch!ā Ray yelled, his face getting redder by the second. āWe donāt wanna hear from a killer.ā
āNot what Iām called!ā Barkovitch all but screamed, looking deranged. āNot what Iām fucking CALLEDā!ā
Barkovitch fell silent then, giving all the boys behind him the finger before facing forward.
āPerseverance,ā Pete said, all sing - song, looking forward, āis key. Perseverance is key. For you, and for me, and weāll win the Walk and live happi - ly.ā
āThat doesnāt even rhyme that much,ā Ray laughed. āMaybe you should reconsider the songwriting thing.ā
āMaybe you should reconsider the walkinā thing, Garra - tee.ā Pete said Rayās last name with a tune, and Ray laughed once more. āThere he is,ā Pete said, smiling. āPersevering.ā
And he had persevered, Ray thought to himself, smiling at Pete before looking out at the horizon. In more ways than one.
Especially when it came to Lottie and that party. Once again, he drifted into memory, drifting, driftingā¦
Lottie Green was wiping the last dish from her dinner with her family that Sunday evening; the encounter with Ray by the lake replaying in her mind. She hadnāt wanted to say no. Truly, she hadnāt. But her Pa wouldnāt like it and Robert would hate it and what was she thinkinā, getting herself all caught up in some silly romance with a white boy? She couldnāt go to that party. Lord, she wanted to, but she couldnāt ā
Lottie startled as there was a banging at the door. She furrowed her brow.
āNow who could that be at this hour?ā Her Pa said gruffly from the living roomās rocking chair. āItās pouring buckets outside.ā
āProbably a Jehovahās Witness,ā Robert said lazily, lying on the living room floor. Lottieās mother, Marie, had gone up to bed early ā and they were right, it was pouring outside. The rain almost drowned out the rambling of Major on the radio; they were reciting what was happening to the boys on that yearās Long Walk. Lottie felt the utmost sympathy for them; they were dropping by the dozens in the rain, slipping and sliding to their deaths, their brains splattering onto the wet concrete ā
The banging from the door came again, and Lottie set down the plate just as her father got up.
āDonāt worry, Pa,ā she said tiredly, walking to their tiny foyer. āIāll get it.ā
āAlright, Lottie, be careful.ā He said, settling down and taking a drag from his cigar.
āI will!ā She called back ā and she had to cover her mouth when she opened the door.
There was Ray, dripping and soaking wet, his face flushed red, raindrops hanging from his eyelashes. He was panting and shivering, staring up at Lottie with his big, dark brown eyes.
āLottieā¦ā he choked out, his shirt plastered to his big body, his eyes pleading. āā¦please.ā
āRay!ā Lottie hissed, alarmed ā she was lost for words, casting a glance back into the house to make sure no one was coming before she rushed forward, holding him up ā his hair looked all messed up and disheveled, some of it sticking to his forehead. āRaymond Davis Garraty, what the hell are you doing? Youāre going to catch a cold, for cryinā out loud āā
āWill you come to my party?ā He asked, holding her shoulders gently. āPlease come, Lottie, even if you wonāt dance with me āā
āRayāā
āPlease come, I promise I wonāt be boring.ā
āYou need to āā
āThe only thing, that I need,ā Ray took a deep breath, āis Charlotte Marie Green, at my birthday party. Screw what people fucking say, Lottie.ā
Charlotte Green blinked up at Ray, and realized she was in the rain with him ā it hadnāt occurred to her until that moment.
āLottie?ā Her father called from inside. āWhoās there?ā
āNo - one, Pa!ā She called back, before shutting the door quietly ā she looked back at Ray. Her hair, which had been straightened that morning, was coiling back up ā Ray loved it, soft and coily and free, because Charlotte loved it too. She took his face in her hands, raising her eyebrows at him. Her face was getting wetter and wetter with his, and he grinned stupidly at her.
āIāll come, jumper.ā She said quietly, smiling ā even through the roaring rain, Ray could hear her. āIāll come to your stupid party. You happy?ā
Ray nodded, his eyes squinting as he smiled wider.
āYou need to go home, and ask your Ma for chicken soup, and sleep.ā She said, still holding his face. āYou hear?ā
āMhm.ā He hummed, grinning.
āAnd you need to change out of these clothes.ā
āMhm.ā
āRay, are you listeninā?ā Lottie laughed.
āMaybe.ā
āGo.ā Charlotte let go of his face, giggling as she pushed him out of her front yard. āGo, get outta here.ā
āAlright.ā Ray said, backing away and still gazing at Charlotte, grinning.
āRay, you can go faster than that!ā Lottie called.
āI know!ā He yelled back.
Lottie giggled again, watching him slowly back away, until he fully turned and walked down the street to his house, his hands in his pockets.
Lottie watched him go until he was out of sight, her hand on her heart.
Like, share, comment and reblog for more! I love to hear your thoughts :)
I feel like as a member of the TLW fandom we must hold people accountable; this morning I was scrolling through TikTok stories and came across a link to a Twitter post calling out actor Tut Nyuot (who portrayed Art Baker) for sending an inappropriate, unsolicited piece of media to a fan. Click here for the full story and tweet ā but this should be a reminder to all to not let yourself get caught up in parasocial relationships when it comes to actors you like. You do not know these people beyond the screen. My heart goes out to the victim.
When I said in this post to not get caught up in parasocial relationships, I was not referring to Zoe whatsoever, I was talking about the general public and to be wary of actors in general. What happened to her is in no way, shape or form her fault, like at all, and I wasnāt accusing her of being parasocial
Summary: Tensions rise. Ray gets a warning, and Lottie gets a visit from the past.
Click here for the previous chapter!
Word Count: 3,996
Warnings: brief description of gore, casual racism, some toxic masculinity from Robert when he was a kid, harsh insult used towards his sister (but he was a kid), sexual innuendo from our favorite hornball Garraty, gavries if you squint, racial tension, remember this is the 70s
It should also be noted that this fic takes place in the year leading up to the movieās events. It is, for the most part, a prequel
[please comment that you want to be added to the tagslist or DM me if you want to be added to the tagslist]
A/N : Iām kinda proud of how much foreshadowing is in this chapter. And YES I used Lucy Grayās Ballad in here! Its a timeless song, and i really need to read THG. ANYWAY. please enjoy, and i claim no ownership of said song or lyrics. Please comment and reblog! ( Ė Ā³Ė)ā„ļø
ā°
Ten years earlier, somewhere in Louisiana
Lottie Greenās eyes fluttered open as she heard the soft thrum of a guitar playing. An even softer voice accompanied it, deep and calming. She couldnāt quite hear what it was saying, but she sat up in her bed nonetheless. Her hair had been oiled and braided into cornrows the previous night.
Dust motes floated lazily through she and her brotherās tiny room, the early rays of the morning shining through their cracked and dusty window with ease. Mourning doves hooted and twittered gently as Lottie stretched, her mouth opening in a yawn ā one of her front teeth was missing. Her older brothers had made fun of her for it endlessly, and sheād cried until her father told them to quit it. Her mama said itād grow back, and sheād shut up as well. But that wasnāt eight year old Lottieās concern right now. Her concern was who was playing that beautiful melody at this time of the morning.
āHey,ā she whispered to her older brother, Robert, was asleep on the floor. His mouth hung wide open as he snored, his body in an awkward position. His hand was twitching, and his mouth drooling. Charlotte grimaced before taking off the patchwork quilt she used as a blanket, and padding to Robertās side. āHey, Robbie!ā
He snorted in his sleep again, wiping the drool from the edge of his mouth before turning over. Lottie frowned, looking outside as the person sung again. She couldnāt hear some of the lyrics now.
āItās sooner, than later, that Iām six feet underā¦ā the rest of the words faded out as she turned back to Robert. Couldnāt he hear it?
Rolling her eyes and walking back to her bed, she picked up her pillow, walked to Robertās side, and stood over him. āRobbie! Wake up! Thereās somethinā weird goinā on!ā
āHuh?ā Robert said sleepily, blinking stupidly. āWhazzgoinon?ā
āListen!ā Lottie paused for a moment, letting the person sing once again. Robert was still half - asleep. āSee? Somebodyās makinā noises and melodies!ā
āScrew off, buttercup.ā He mumbled, drawing his blanket over his head. Lottie humphed, before taking her pillow and hitting it over Robertās head.
āOW!ā He screamed, sitting up, enraged. Lottie had her hands on her hips, smirking.
āNow youāre awake. Come see whoās sing - ing.ā
āYouāre gonna see whoās swing - ing when Iām done with you, you little āā
Lottie let out a little shriek as she dodged Robertās hit, running around him and out of the room.
āGet back here, Lottie!ā He yelled after the little girl ā she didnāt listen, jumping over the creaky floorboards, her pillow under her arm. On her way to the front porch, she saw her stuffed rabbit. She stopped for a moment, and put down her pillow, picking it up.
It was a boy rabbit, because her Pa had told her so, and her Ma had sewn a shirt for him with suspenders and purple pants. She didnāt like the purple pants, but her Ma said those were the only scraps she could find.
āHel - lo, rabbit.ā She said softly, before hugging him. āI still donāt have a name for ya.ā
āCharlotte!ā Robert yelled from down the hall, and Lottie let out a squeal before running to the porch, where she was sure the music was coming from.
āSave me, musician, save me!ā She yelledā she was suddenly swept up into someoneās strong arms, and she looked up and laughed.
āNow what the hell are you doinā, yelling this early in the morning?ā
āPut me down, Ant, put me down!ā Lottie protested, giggling as her eldest brother, Anthony Green, squeezed her into a tight hug. āPut me down, I tell you, before I tell Pa! I knew it was you singing, I knew it, I knew it!ā
āAlright, Lottie,ā Anthony said, chuckling to himself as he set his little sister down. Lottie saw the guitar leaning on the wall behind him and knew heād probably gotten up to catch her. She took in the scenery of the front porch in the morning; the fields around them had lots of grass, mostly green; cows grazed lazily around and the trees were tall and lush. Butterflies settled on flowers all around the field, bees too.
āNow why did you wake Robbie up?ā Anthony asked evenly, sounding much older than his sixteen years. āYou know he gets mighty cranky in the morninā.ā
āI wanted him to see who was making all that noise.ā Lottie pouted, hugging her rabbit closer to her chest. Anthony eyed the rabbit, shaking his head before sitting back down on their fatherās rocking chair and strumming his guitar once more.
āYou ever gonna name that silly rabbit?ā
Lottie stomped her foot on the wooden floor of the porch, hugging it closer. āHeās not silly. Heās smart and Iām sure heās nice, he just doesnāt like speakinā much.ā
āI have an idea for a name,ā Robertās groggy voice came then, and he stepped out onto the porch, rubbing his eyes with visible irritation. āSonofabitch. āCause his mommaās a āā
āYou finish that sentence, and Iām not buying you any sweets when I go to town today.ā Ant said, narrowing his eyes at his little brother. Robert shut up then ā he looked up to Ant, and would mostly only listen to him. He was, after all, six years his senior; Robert thought Anthony was the coolest person in the world.
āI think you should call him Alaska.ā Ant said, after Robert gave Lottie a nasty look and Lottie stuck her tongue out at him. āāCause youāre always readinā about that place.ā
Ant used any money he earned working odd jobs in town to buy Lottie books, and Robert sweets ā Lottie had always loved to read. It was embedded in her. She enjoyed it far more than watching the annual Long Walk every year. She was terribly squeamish of it all, no matter how many times Ant told her it was an honorable thing to take part of, and a staple of their country.
āYouāre right,ā Lottie said after a beat, drawing Ant out of his reverie. āIāll name himā¦ā
āSonofabitch?ā Robert offered, and Ant smacked him over the head. āOw!ā
āā¦after that tiny city in Alaska, the one I wanna see one day,ā Lottie continued. āIāll name him Stebbins.ā
āStebbins?ā Robert repeated, confused. āWhat kinda queer name is Stebbins?ā
āI donāt think itās queer,ā Ant shrugged, as Lottie smirked smugly at Robert. āI think itās unique. Aināt heard of nobody called Stebbins, not yet.ā
āStebbins is my rabbit, so now you know.ā Lottie said, all sing song ā she held Stebbins up to the morning sun, his button eyes staring back at her. āIāll think youāll be mighty useful to the world one day, Stebbins, mighty useful.ā
āFor wipinā my runny nose,ā Robert snapped.
āShut up!ā Lottie yelled, and before Robert could reply, Ant swept Lottie up into his lap, and she giggled.
āIf I play what I was playinā before you two interrupted, will you shut it?ā
āYes.ā The two siblings said in unison, eagerly. Ant laughed.
āAlright, then,ā he readied his guitar, and Robert sat criss - cross applesauce on the floor, waiting. āReady?ā
āMhm.ā Lottie nodded, her smile radiant.
Ant cleared his throat, and began to strum his guitar, looking out at the rising sun as he sang.
ā⦠Well, all right, I'm bad, but then, you're no prize either
All right, I'm bad, but then, that's nothing new
You say you won't love me, I won't love you neither
Just let me remind you what I am to you.ā
He paused for a moment, simply strumming his guitar. His two younger siblings watched him quietly, enthralled. He started to sing again.
ā⦠'Cause I am the one who looks out when you're leaping
I am the one who knows how you were brave
And I am the one who heard what you said sleeping
I'll take that and more when I go to my grave.
Lottie saw Antās eyes shine with unshed tears, and he swallowed before continuing.
ā⦠It's sooner than later that I'm six feet under
It's sooner than later that you'll be alone.
So who will you turn to tomorrow, I wonder?
For when the bell rings, lover, you're on your own.ā
He stopped then, and Lottie furrowed her brow at Ant as he wiped his eyes.
āWhatās wrong, Ant?ā She asked softly. Robert was quiet, looking up at his big brother. āAnt, whatās wrong?ā She pressed, when he didnāt answer.
āNothinā.ā He mumbled, but his voice sounded choked.
āYouāre lyinā.ā Lottie said, poking Ant. āYouāre lyinā Ant, I know it. Stebbins told me.ā
āThat silly rabbit didnāt tell you nothinā.ā Ant said meanly. Lottie narrowed her eyes at Ant, and humphed as Robert laughed. Ant sighed.
āAlright, Iām sorry.ā Ant pulled her into a hug, before picking up Robert and pulling him into one too. He struggled against him, yelling.
āStop hugginā me!ā He said, muffled against his older brotherās shirt. āI aināt no sissy, let me goāā
āI got the song from a girl.ā Ant said, and Robert stopped struggling as the two looked up at him. āI heard her singing it by the lake. She saw me, and she taught it to me.ā
āReally?ā Lottie said. Ant smiled at her, and nodded.
āReally.ā
The two children leaned on their brother then, and he was able to support their weight altogether ā Ant was a strong boy. Always had been. But Lottie saw something change in his eyes when he sang that last verse. Like he related to it more than ever. Of what part, she didnāt know. She was too young to work that out. Too young.
Too young to see him leave. Too young to ā
Lottie gasped as she sat up straight in bed, her body covered in a cold sweat. She was eighteen once more, Ant wasnāt quite around, and she was in her room, in Porterville, alone. Her stuffed rabbit, Stebbins, lay beside her ā much more tattered and older than it had been in the dream ā
No, the memory.
That last verse of Antās song, the one sheād always remember, echoed in her head as she panted ā although Maine was ever so hot at this time of year, she felt so, so cold.
āāIt's sooner than later that I'm six feet underā¦ā
āNoā¦ā Lottie shook her head, her forehead slick with sweat. āNot again. Not now.ā
She got up from her bed, squinting in the dark to see the time her alarm clock read: 03:17 AM. Much too early. She sighed as she heard a neighborās radio crackle with the voice of the Major, droning on about this yearās Long Walk. It would start soon. Sheād heard a couple boys at school would be going. She didnāt know them enough to try and convince them not to, and who would listen to a black girl anyway?
Inexplicably in that moment, she thought of Ray ā theyād been friends for two weeks now, and they never spoke about the Walk, but a part of her was glad he was too young to go. He would be turning eighteen, just like her, in a couple of weeks ā by then, the Long Walk would have started.
Lottie didnāt know why she cared about Ray so much. Sheād only known him for two weeks. Heās been nice enough, despite people staring; he would tell her about his dad, and make faces whenever someone brought up the Walk. Heād even sit with her at lunch, even though no one else wanted to.
āWhatāre you doing?ā Lottie said that first day; her tray was filled with an unknown slop and a milk carton with some carrots on the side, same as his. Ray, whoād started eating hungrily, looked at her.
āWhat?ā He said, mouth half - full. Lottie put a hand to her mouth then, giggling.
āI said, what are you doing, Ray?ā
Ray shrugged, āIām sitting with a friend. Nothing wrong with that, is there?ā
Lottie grinned, raising an eyebrow. āI donāt think your friends are a big fan of you sitting next to me, you know.ā
Ray cast a look over to the table of āfriendsā he had ā Ben Miller was giving him a questioning look, and Ray shrugged before looking back at Lottie. āTheyāre boring. Youāre not.ā
Lottie gave him a look. āYouāre weird, Ray.ā
Ray didnāt respond to that, simply smiling at her. Lottieās heart fluttered then, but she pushed the feeling away.
Ray Garraty, with every passing day, thought more and more of Lottie Green. Her voice, her eyes, her lips, her scar; her steadfastness despite peopleās thoughts about her. She wasnāt some damsel in distress ā he could tell that sheād hate to be that, yet she still managed to be so⦠soft. Like cookie dough.
He wanted to eat cookie dough now. Or Lottie. He wanted to eat Lottie Green.
No! Stop being a sex maniac! He mentally scolded himself, shaking his head slightly as his face turned red.
āYou okay, Ray?ā Lottie asked, when she saw how red his face his face was. She leaned in closer. āYou look like youāre runninā a fever.ā
Ray coughed, blinking rapidly when his eyes drifted to Lottieās round lips. āYeah!ā He said, his voice cracking. āI ā Iām fine. Swell, really.ā
āAlright,ā Lottie said skeptically. āIf you say so.ā
He found it hard to find many good things in the world, Ray thought, before Lottie offered him one of her carrot bits. He took it and smiled at her, and her cheeks became a reddish - brown. But there were some there: his dad, who was his hero ā going against the system, teaching Ray things the Major would have him shot for. There was his mom, who was kind and nurturing, who he loved with all his heart. There was baseball, there were oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, even.
But being friends with Lottie was something new, and interesting, and fun. She didnāt bend to anyoneās will, didnāt seem to be scared of much. Didnāt mind telling Ray to mind his own business when heād asked about her scar that day. There was just something about her ā she was like a breath of fresh air on a summerās day. She was always wearing something flower related, always laughing, always smiling. A splash of color on a gray and white canvas. Ray was starting to sound like the poems his mom wrote. He never understood the point of seeing beauty in these small, insignificant things. He couldnāt see it. But Lottie could. Sheād talk for ages in between periods about trees and flowers and deer and rabbits.
āYeah,ā Ray would reply, one time when they ate cookies Ginnie had made him at the old playground in town. āBut thereās also the Major and Squads and those fucked up people that watch the Walk.ā
Lottie would get all tense when Ray mentioned the Long Walk, and her hand would drift to her scar absentmindedly.
āBut if you think about that stuff all the time,ā she mused softly. āItās like staring into a brick wall and refusing to step around it. Youāll never see the sun shininā on the other side.ā
Ray paused, thinking for a moment. āThatās corny.ā
āShut up, Garraty!ā Lottie would say, all mock - upset, before Ray would laugh and sheād throw a biscuit at him ā and Ray would change the subject, because he got that feeling that Lottie didnāt like to talk about the Long Walk.
āYou realize that working at this library is hard work, right?ā
āYes, maāam.ā
āNo stealing or smoking in the premises is allowed.ā
āI saw that on the sign when I walked in, maāam.ā
āNo giving me cheek, boy.ā
Robert Green furrowed his brow at the old lady standing opposite him in Portervilleās local library. Contrary to Lottieās predictions, he now had a job.
āAbout damn time,ā Pa had said the evening prior, at dinner. āYouāre twenty in a matter of weeks.ā
āYeah yeah, Pa.ā Robert had muttered, stabbing his food as Lottie stifled her laughter.
Now, he stood in his best ironed shirt and jeans, suede shoes on his feet and a pearly - white smile on his face. The librarian in charge looked very skeptical of him ā Robert knew exactly why ā but it wasnāt like there were many other choices to pick from. The other candidate had radiation sickness and the other one had gotten picked to be in the upcoming Long Walk. He had withdrawn his application yesterday.
āAll you have to do is look over the library during daytime,ā the librarian droned on, adjusting her glasses. She couldnāt be younger than forty. āNot many people come here apart from some students once in a while, so itās not too much workā¦ā she coughed, sizing Robert up again. āI know your sort donāt like much work.ā
Robert repressed the urge to also point out that his sort also didnāt look like wrinkled prunes, but he remembered that he needed this job. It was this, or trying his luck on the Long Walk. He wouldnāt do that to this family. To Lottie.
Antās face flashed through his mind, and he forced himself to stay focused.
āYou can start right now.ā The librarian said. āCall me if anything.ā
āYes maāam.ā Robert replied, looking around ā the library was big and old. Heād heard itād been around since even before the Civil War and The Major, which is why it still looked so grand. Bookshelves of unimaginable heights dominated the place and Robert thought itād be easy to get lost in the aisles. The desk he was to work at was a reference desk, large and circular ā all the index cards were in the tiny drawers, and he knew itād be hell to register a book ā but like the lady had said, not many people came around. He knew his little sister would, however, and smiled at the thought.
A couple minutes after the librarian had left, Robert sat absentmindedly at the reference desk, whistling and listening to the radio.
āThe Long Walk starts in five days,ā the Majorās gruff and tough voice echoed into the silence. āBoys from all around the nation ā regardless of color, weight and height, are still welcome to join; there are always sissies that withdraw right before. Thereās always a space. You only have to be eighteen to get a chance to revel in the glory of āā
āUh, excuse me?ā
Robert raised an eyebrow and looked away from the radio; there, in front of him, was a red - headed white boy. He was freckled and chubby, and around Lottieās age.
āUm⦠I was wondering if I could withdraw this book?ā he held up a book titled āA Guide to Flowers and Their Meaningsā. Robert looked at the book, before looking at the boy. He looked sort of embarrassed and flustered ā like he didnāt expect Robert to be here. Robert narrowed his eyes at him.
āHey,ā he said slowly, standing up and leaning towards Ray. Rayās face grew redder, and he leaned back. āDonāt I know you?ā
Ray let out a nervous laugh. āI donāt think so.ā
āA - ha!ā Robert snapped his fingers, and Ray looked around helplessly. āYouāre the white boy my sisterās been mooninā over! Ray Garraty! The one who caught her hat!ā
Rayās face became instantly curious. āSheās been mooning over me?ā He looked hopeful. āReally?ā
āDonāt change the subject.ā Robert said lowly, scrutinizing Ray. Ray stared back at him ā a strand of his hair falling into his face. āIāve been wanting to speak to you.ā
āAbout?ā Ray replied slowly.
āLottie.ā Robert narrowed his eyes. āI want to make something very clear to you.ā
Ray swallowed, keeping eye contact with Robert.
āI donāt know what sheās told you about me, but none of that matters. I care about my sister. A lot. And Iād hate to see her heart get shattered because she was playing around with some white boy whoās in over his head. Who she thinks cares about her because he caught her hat.ā
Ray furrowed his brow. āI do care about her, and itās not like that. Weāre just friends, and Lottieās amazing āā
āGo and be amazed by some other girl.ā Robert said calmly. āNot my sister. I know how you all are. Think weāre stupid. Just a bunch of country folks from Louisiana who donāt know what weāre doing here.ā
āHey āā Ray started to protest, but Robert held up a hand.
āIām going to warn you once, and not again. Stay away from Charlotte.ā
Ray stared at Robert, and Robert stared back at Ray; Ray then scoffed. Robert furrowed his brow.
āThink somethingās funny, Garraty?ā He said, and Ray shrugged, grinning stupidly.
āI donāt know, I just⦠I donāt think you should be making decisions for your younger sister.ā
āExcuse me?ā Robert said, sizing Ray up once more.
āYou heard me.ā Ray shrugged, but he paled when Robert stepped to the edge of the desk, leaning in so close to Garraty he could practically phase through the border.
āYou donāt know what itās like for us,ā he hissed, and Ray paled. āYou donāt know what danger youāre putting Lottie in, the target youāve put on her head.ā
Before Ray could reply, he felt Robert snatch the book hed been borrowing from him, and withdrawing the index card needed for it. Ray watched him, wetting his lips before speaking.
āLook, I really donāt mean any harm āā
āQuit it.ā
Ray sighed. āI justā¦ā
āWant to get between her legs?ā
Ray turned beet - red, his mouth opening and closing silently before he managed to speak. āNo! Iām just her friend, and I donāt have any other intentions, I swear.ā
Robert scoffed before finishing what he wrote down on the index card and handing the book to Ray. āYou have to return this in three days. And you also have to steer clear of Lottie.ā
Ray pursed his lips as Robert turned away, ready to go and arrange some books. Who was he to stop him from seeing Lottie? He couldnāt possibly think he could ā
āOr what?ā Ray blurted out, suddenly. His voice echoed through the empty library.
Robert stopped in his tracks, and he didnāt turn to Ray for a long moment. When he finally did, he made a gun with his hand, and pressed his middle and index finger to his own temple.
Ray furrowed his brow then, feeling the memory flicker.
āOr elseā¦ā
āIt aināt fair!ā Curlyās voice cried out.
āā¦this will happen.ā Robert said, his voice becoming disembodied.
āIt aināt fair!ā Curly screamed again, from far away.
āBang.ā Robert whispered.
āIT AINāT FUCKING FAIāā
BANG.
Ray was jolted back into the present, into the Walk, into the worst mistake heād ever made in his life ā theyād just just shot Curly, his brain matter splattering all over the hot road, the side of his mouth blasted open, the soldiers already getting ready to zip him up into a body bag.
He turned away from Curlyās corpse, his breaths becoming shallow. Theyād tried, theyād tried to help Curly, Christ, theyād tried, heād gotten a charley-horse, they couldnāt save himā
āWhat are you doing, Ray?ā Lottieās voice echoed in his mind, the same way it had that first day he sat next to her at lunch.
āWarning, 47.ā The soldierās voice crackled over the speaker.
āSpeed up, jumper.ā Lottieās voice urged, in his mind. āJumper Garratyā¦ā
āGarraty!ā Peteās voice and Lottieās yelled at the same time, and Ray felt Peteās arms hold him, and he reminded him of Lottie, and Lottie reminded him of Pete, and he was in the past and the present at the same time ā
āCome on!ā Pete urged, pushing Ray forward, Ray staring into space, shell - shocked. āLetās go, keep movinā.ā
Lottieās laugh echoed in his mind.
āHey, Garraty,ā Collie called from ahead, not looking back. āStay with us.ā
Ray didnāt respond, swallowing.
āKeep movinā.ā Pete said one last time. āCome on.ā
***
For clarification, Robert is almost twenty ā he is two years older than Lottie, who is eighteen ā Ray, in the events of this fic, is a couple weeks younger than Lottie, 17 (heāll be 18 for the majority of the story and by next chapter)
A/N : it should be noted that this story will absolutely not have a happy ending. It is tragic and sad, and worse than the one youāre imagining in your head right now. No one ever really wins the Walk. No one.
P.S : Official art of how I imagine Lottie is coming soon! :) Iām an artist too
using Lucyās song just makes me imagine Antothy looks like Dimitri Abold (the actor that played Reaper) itās nice to see the flashbacks building up characters, even if they arenāt alive still. Stebbins being her toy rabbits name is just icing on the cake, I just imagine her feeding him jelly sandwiches cause her family couldnāt afford to get both peanut butter and jelly.
Robert calling Ray out for making sure heās serious about Lottie, fits his character so well. Like when Pete asked him what going to happen after Ray said his wish was for the carbine, Ray doesnāt think far ahead; but again heās a teenage boy.
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Summary: Ray and Lottie get up to some mischief on Lottieās first day at school.
Click here for the previous chapter
Word count: 5,865 (a little wordy, I know ā wanted to establish some dynamics, I hope itās not boring)
Warnings: use of an offensive, dated term for a black person (which I can reclaim), casual racism, internalized homophobia from our favorite bisexual ray garraty, a little bit of gavries, Ray is a hornball, mocking of a characters accent, sexual innuendo (only once)
It should also be noted that this fic takes place in the year leading up to the movieās events. It is, for the most part, a prequel.
A/N: please I was so sick when I wrote this I lowk hate it⦠please comment or reblog so I know whether to abandon this project or keep writing, Iām not sure if people want to read
Enjoy! \(^ć®^)/
Lottie Green stood on one tiptoe in her small room, squinting at her reflection in her cracked mirror closely. There was a small pimple below her left cheek, and it had come up this morning.
āOh, lordā¦ā she whispered, poking it. āThis is mighty disgustināā and on the first day Iām goinā to school, no lessā¦ā
Marvin Gaye crooned from Lottieās record player as she furrowed her brow, contemplating whether or not she should squeeze it. To be, or not to be. That was the pimple. She giggled at her own thoughts, thinking of the Shakespeare play script, Hamlet, sheād saved up money to buy back in Louisiana. It was second - hand and ever so tattered, but she loved to read it again and again.
āIām gonna be a writer someday,ā she said, all sing - song to herself; sheād been writing down a novel idea yesterday while she was at the till, before Ray had walked in and dropped his groceries everywhere. Lottie couldnāt help smiling at the memory. Ray was soā¦
āOdd.ā She said out loud to herself. She decided to leave the pimple, and stepped back, taking her appearance in.
She was wearing her favorite bell - bottoms, the ones sheād taken time to stitch flowers into ā itād taken her a whole evening, and her candle had almost run out of wax, but sheād done it. Her shirt was of floral pattern too, a milkmaid blouse with red carnations. Lottieās family, like almost every other family under the Majorās regime, couldnāt afford fancy new clothing. Sheād had to make do with second hand clothes sent over from one of her aunts, or uncles.
āCHARLOTTE!ā Lottieās fatherās voice boomed from the living room, and she jumped ā almost toppling over the tiny table that held her cocoa butter and equally tiny bottle of perfume. āHow long are you gonna be in there?!ā
āProbably a hundred years,ā Lottie groaned as her older brother replied. āSheās gettinā all dolled up for that white boy.ā
āWHAT?!ā Lottieās fatherās voice boomed once more. āCharlotte Marie Green, whatās this I hear about you dolling up for some white boy?ā
āI am NOT, Pa!ā Lottie yelled back from inside her room ā she grabbed her satchel and stomped past her bed, which had plenty of storybooks strewn across it ā and left her room.
There were still some moving - in boxes scattered in the hallway, but all in all, the Greens had made their new house a true home ā pictures of Lottieās grandfather and grandmother hung neatly from the walls, the lightbulbs had been installed, her father had repaired the holes in the floor, and the picture of Charlotteās eldest brother ā who was not quite around ā sat quietly on the hallway table.
She entered the living room, where her mother was quietly knitting and her father was sat in a rocking chair, reading the morning paper with a cigar in his mouth. His brows were knitted in concentration, his salt - and - pepper hair cropped closely to his scalp, his mustache almost perfectly trimmed. Robert, who had tattled on her just then, was eating oatmeal and smirking all smug at her ā just seconds before her father lowered the paper, she gave him the finger. He returned it to her, sticking out his tongue.
āGood morninā, Charlotte.ā He said gruffly, raising an eyebrow and sizing Charlotte up. āYou look nice.ā
āThank you, Pa.ā Charlotte replied fairly. Her hair was in a large Afro, per usual. Her mother, Marie, looked up at her as well.
āAināt you gonna eat, sweetheart? Or did that white boy Robert was talkinā about promise you breakfast?ā
āMa!ā Lottie hissed, as her father let out a sound of disapproval. She then made to the kitchen, shouldering past Robert, who laughed. āRobertās talkinā nonsense. Iām not messing with anyone.ā
āI sure hope so,ā Marie replied, looking at Lottie as she rummaged through the fridge. āYou know laying with a man before marriage is against the āā
āā against the Lord, yes Ma, I know.ā Lottie replied with some note of exhaustion. She found the milk and set it on the table, opening a cupboard and looking for cornflakes.
āAnd you know how they are,ā her father chipped in, turning a page. āSegregation wasnāt that long again, now ā only a couple years ago. Just because some laws said you can go to school with āem, doesnāt mean they see you as anything more than a āā
āPa.ā Lottie stopped pouring the milk into a bowl and stared at her father, who was still reading the paper. āI know. Iām not stupid.ā
āYou was lookinā real stupid when he caught your hat.ā Robert quipped, and Lottie smacked him on the head. āOw!ā
āYouāre the stupid one,ā Lottie said harshly, now pouring in the cornflakes as Robert rubbed his head. āYouāre nineteen and you donāt have any job to show for it.ā
āShut up,ā Robert spat. āIām gonna apply at the library to - day, you stuck up little āā
āYou say what I think youāre gonna say, Robert, and Iāll hang you by your ears.ā Lottieās father said warningly, puffing out a cloud of smoke. Lottie smiled at him gratefully, before taking in a mouthful of cornflakes, and Robert rolled his eyes and picked at his own Afro.
āTry not to let anyone get you down today, Charlotte,ā Lottieās dad said then, after a long beat of silence. āThereāre gonna be whispers. I know itāll be hard ā but donāt let them get you down. Stay the little bookworm you are.ā
āA stuck - up bookworm,ā Robert hissed, and Lottie made a face at him.
āA smart bookworm,ā Marie, her mother, corrected. āOur own little Maya Angelou.ā But Lottie noticed she whispered Mayaās name ā she was a banned author under the Majorās regime. Her mama would be in deep trouble if a member of the Squads heard her saying all that. Marie then got up, and planted a kiss on Lottieās cheek. She groaned, fighting to get away from her mother. āUgh, Mama āā
āOh hush, sweetheart,ā she stopped kissing her daughterās cheek then, drawing back and taking her in. āYouāll always be my baby.ā
āSheās going to have her own babies soon,ā Robert piped up, and Lottie glared at him. āLittle mixed ones.ā
āRobert!ā Lottie yelled, her face becoming hot as she threw her spoon at him ā it missed, and he gave her the finger once more before grabbing his coat and leaving. Charlotte narrowed her eyes as she dropped her bowl in the sink, grabbing her satchel from the table and turning to leave.
āBye, Ma.ā She said over shoulder. āBye, Pa āā
āCharlotte.ā Her father said then, and she stopped in her tracks, slowly turning around. His tone was serious.
āYes, Pa?ā She asked, her voice higher than usual. He set down the newspaper heād been reading, and her mother came to stand behind his chair, her hand on his shoulder.
āI hope what Robert is saying is nothinā but harmless teasinā.ā He said, removing his cigar from his mouth and stubbing it out. āYou know what happens to girls who go and run off with those boys. Hell, even our own boys. Some of āem get lucky, but mostā¦ā he looked around, trailing off, before leaning in and lowering his voice. āā¦you know itās hard living under the Majorās government, Lottie. Not everybody gets jobs. Not everybody can sustain themselves. Young men āā he swallowed, looking at the picture of Lottieās eldest brother on the table. āā sign up for things. Get desperate, go to challenges like the Walk. They die. There are widows left and right. Families left behind. You know this.ā
Charlotte cast a glance at the photo of her eldest brother, swallowing before blinking rapidly. Her vision had started to blur, and she laughed nervously before speaking. āRobertās just talking about a whole lotta nothinā, Pa. The boy heās referring to only caught my sun hat the day we moved in, you saw that. Thereās nothing going on.ā
Her father stared at Lottie for a long moment. She fiddled with her fingers under his gaze ā and then he finally nodded.
āHave a good day at school.ā He said, and Lottie smiled at him before turning and leaving.
āI will.ā
But as she exited their house and got onto her bike, the image of her eldest brother ā who wasnāt quite around ā stayed in her mind.
***
Ray Garraty was not having a very good morning.
Firstly, his alarm clock had blared so loud that heād startled and fallen off of his small bed ā then he cursed so loud that his mother, Ginnie, had come in and scolded him for his use of language. Then, the water in the bathroom had stopped flowing, and when it finally started up again, his mom and dad insisted on hogging it for thirty minutes.
When he finally got to shower, there wasnāt that much water left, and he didnāt feel completely clean. Then, the shirt heād been planning to wear today had to be ironed, and the power promptly went out when he needed it, leading to him waiting another thirty minutes for it to come back on.
When he was ironing, his dad started to talk to him about some banned book he wanted Ray to read, the one by Maya Angelou. Ray had been so in tune with what his father was saying that he hadnāt paid attention to the iron ā it burnt a hole in his favorite shirt, and it was the best out of all the second - hand ones from his dad that he owned. Which was, to be frank, all of his shirts. He then cursed loudly again, and Ginnie had heard again, and he got an earful from both of his parents, and then argued back, and walked to school in a foul mood. He was definitely going to have to hurry up or heād be late, and he wasnāt even in a good shirt. What would Lottie think of him?
The rising sun shone down on Ray annoyingly as he speed - walked down the street, his button - up shirt making him feel suffocated ā he unbuttoned the first button that Ginnie insisted had to be done up at all times, and inwardly groaned when old Mrs Morrison from church tottered down the sidewalk, just in his direction. She smiled when she saw him, the sunlight showing all the wrinkles and grooves in her face.
āMorning, Mrs Morrison.ā Ray said slowly, his voice soft and tired as he offered a half - assed smile. Heād never hear the end of it if he didnāt greet her.
āWhat did you say, young Garraty?ā She replied, her old body shaking as she slowly put a hand up to her ear. Ray sighed.
āHuh?ā She said loudly. āWhaāchoo say, Raymond?ā
āI SAID,ā Ray started to speak even louder. āGOOD MORNING, MRS MORRISON ā !ā
The tinkle of a bikeās bells cut Rayās speech off ā he stared as Lottie Green rode by on her bicycle, humming to herself. Her hair, soft and big and free, was blown softly by the wind ā her smile radiant and scar prominent. As usual, the sun made her look gold, and her skin shone like a lake on a summerās day. As if in slow - motion, she turned and saw Ray as she rode by. Her plump lips opened as she called out to him.
āMornin, jumper!ā She waved, giggling. āWhyāre you yellinā at that poor lady?ā
Ray blinked stupidly, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as Lottie passed them by. It was only as she was almost gone that he replied; āSheās hard of hearing!ā But Lottie, obviously, never heard him. He sighed, looking back at Mrs Morrison, who was smiling up at him.
āGood morning to you too, Raymond,ā she said, before reaching up and pinching one of his cheeks. āSuch a good boy, always greeting your elders. You remind me of my Edward, the way you looked at that pretty colored girl⦠thatās the way he used to look at me when he was aliveā¦ā
Ray groaned as Mrs Morrison tottered away. āSheās black, Mrs Morrison, not colored.ā
āHuh?ā She called back. āWhaāchoo say?ā
Ray shouldered his bag, feeling his face get hot at the thought of seeing Lottie in school. āNothinā.ā
Rutherford High was a run - down, dirty high school ā it was the only one in town, and a popular one in Freeport in general. Ray, for the majority of his time there, had been unpopular; his male classmates picked on him growing up because he was big, and his female classmates had giggled nervously while they did it ā until one day, in 9th grade, when Benjamin Miller told Ray he buggered his mom in the mornings and made his dad watch.
Ray then punched him in the face, breaking his nose.
Ben had to get his nose fixed, and Ray got detention, but the two boys had been friends ever since ā no one really fucked around with Ray after that. Ray didnāt like that reputation, however; he wasnāt a guy that fist - fought a lot. He kept to himself. Mostly.
He could see Rutherford now. Two members of the Squads stood guard at its entrance, their carbines gleaming in the morning sun. They were always there, in case anyone got any funny ideas about causing a riot. Ray heard that the year before he got into high school, thereād been an anti - Major protest ā theyād broken it up, and an investigation was carried out. They found the ringleader. He was dragged out of his bed in the middle of the night, and shot by the Major in front of his family when he refused to apologize for his actions.
He was only seventeen. Ray heard heād planned to planned to propose to his girl. Only seventeen. His dad had called it brutal. Unfair. Barbaric. Ray thought so too. He became uneasy whenever people whispered about it.
Only seventeen, he thought. Same age as him.
Shaking the thought of the unnamed boy out of his head, Rayās eyes swept across the school crowd. Most were smoking out front, some of the girls in scanty crop tops and short skirts, the bookish ones off to the side, their noses in the latest Major - sanctioned read, some boys throwing around a football, Ben Miller throwing a baseball to one of his boys and them throwing it back. They were all laughing raucously about something, and Ray sidestepped a slowly swaying guy who was probably drunk out of his mind.
āHey!ā The bright, loud voice of Ben Miller stabbed Rayās ears as he trudged closer to them all, and the other boys laughed. āIf it aināt Ray the greatest!ā
āHey,ā Ray mumbled, rubbing his eyes ā this morning really wasnāt the best. Ben raised an eyebrow, clapping Rayās back ā he was taller, and more built than him. Much handsomer too, Ray thought, but realized it was queer and quickly pushed the thought out of his mind.
āWhy the long face, Ray?ā Ben said, and the rest of the boys laughed . āTodayās a good day. A fuckinā good day. Millie sucked me off last night, can you believe that?ā
Rayās face immediately became hot as the other boys laughed; his brain was invaded with the image of Lottie doing the same thing for him. Fuck, Garraty, he mentally slapped himself. Stop it. Youāve known her four days, and youāre turning into some fucking perv.
āO-oh, really?ā Ray said, his voice cracking as the other boys laughs died down. āThatās ā swell, Ben.ā
Ben blinked at Ray with his bright blue eyes, before breaking out into laughter again. āSwell? You sound like a fuckinā sissy, Garraty, I tell you ā youād fool anyone. But Iā¦.ā Ben then winked at Ray before pointing at his own nose; it would always be slightly crooked from when Ray punched him. āā¦I know better.ā
Ray always wondered if Ben secretly resented him for his nose; if he did, he never showed it. āAnyway,ā Ben said then, looking at the other students around as the other guys in the group started to talk amongst themselves. āā¦Howās it going with Jan?ā
Ray blinked. āWho?ā
āJan.ā Ben repeated, laughing softly and shaking his head. āRay, did you wake up on the wrong side of bed or somethinā? Youāre acting like a re āā
āIām fine, Ben, I just āā Ray sighed. āI just havenāt had a good fucking morning.ā
Ben whistled lowly before putting his hand on Rayās shoulder. āYouāll be fine, Ray. I bet the Majorās left ballsack on that.ā
Ray chuckled then, lightly shoving Ben. āShut up, man.ā
āThere he is.ā Ben said, smiling at Ray before furrowing his brow at something behind him. āHey. Whoās the new bird?ā
Ray already knew who Ben was talking about before he turned; he only hoped it wasnāt true. He wasnāt sure Ben would behave around Lottie. He turned around and saw her, pulling into the front of the school with the bicycle heād seen her on twenty minutes earlier. She mustāve taken a different, longer route to school, because she looked out of breath and sweaty ā she was panting softly as she chained the bike to a nearby railing. Some students had stopped what they were doing, shooting her looks and whispering.
It didnāt take a genius to notice she was one of the very few black students in the school ā she stuck out, to the school body, like a sore thumb.
Shouldering her satchel and straightening out her shirt, Lottie walked across the school green, either not noticing or blatantly ignoring some of the students around her. As she passed the group, she caught Rayās eye. Ray, who almost always seemed to be lost for words around Lottie, stared back at her, slack - jawed and stupid. She smiled at him, raising her hand in greeting before looking away and entering the school.
He raised his hand back, waving feverishly. Ben, who saw this all happen, let out another whistle. āGarratyās got himself a piece of ass.ā
āItās not like that,ā Ray protested, a little firmly. āShe lives a few houses down from me. I spoke to her. Weāre friends.ā
āOh, shit,ā one of the other boys said. āDidnāt take her sort to be your type.ā
āOkay, what do you mean by that?ā Ray replied, turning to the guy. He had mousy - brown hair, and wore glasses.
āWhat do I mean by what?ā
āWhat do you mean by her sort?ā Ray pressed.
āYāknow,ā he shrugged. āColored.ā
āYeah, fuck off Davidson,ā Ray said harshly, and he started to walk off from the group.
āHey!ā Ben called after Ray. āWhereāre you going, Garraty?ā
āTo class.ā Ray replied, not looking back.
āItās not for another ten minutes!ā Ben yelled.
Ray ignored him.
In the school halls, Lottie sidestepped a lot of people, all rushing to do something, some just smoking and looking at her. A group of cheerleaders looked at her from afar, giggling and speaking amongst themselves; when Lottie looked directly at them, they looked away. Sighing, she made her way to the admissions office.
After asking a student politely for directions, Lottie found the office, and checked herself into the school.
āCharlotte Marie Green?ā The prim and proper office secretary asked. Lottie wondered if she was government - issued. She was so clean.
āYes maāam.ā Lottie replied, watching her hands fly over the keyboard of a box - like computer.
āAnd you came up from Louisiana, correct?ā She asked, squinting at something on the screen. Lottie knew then she must be government issued ā the computer was an Altair 8800. To buy one of those, youād have to sell an arm and a leg, or win the Walk.
āYes,ā Lottie repeated, looking around the office. Compared to the woman sitting in front of her, it was grimy and miserable ā a picture of the Major hung below the office clock, staring back at her through his sunglasses, the ones she always saw on him when they watched his speeches on the television back in Louisiana. Her hands began to feel sweaty and she looked away.
āYou got exceptional grades in your AP Psychology,ā she noted. āAnd youāre joining in almost the middle of second semester ā itās almost March, almost time for this yearās Walk.ā Lottieās hands felt even clammier at the mention of the Walk ā her eldest brotherās face flashed through her mind then, his photograph sitting on that table at home.
āHere.ā The secretary handed out Lottieās schedule to her, and she took it dutifully.
āThank you.ā Lottie said softly, and the secretary nodded, her hair sprayed blonde hair gleaming in the flickering office lights.
āDonāt you worry, sugar.ā She smiled at Lottie, and she noticed that she had exceptionally pearly whites.
Lottie took the schedule and was about to leave when she bumped into someone else.
āOh, sorry āā
āDonāt worry about it āā
She looked up, right into the freckled, round face of Ray Garraty.
āOh!ā Lottie exclaimed, as Ray blushed. She should really stop saying āohā around Ray. āHi, Ray! I wasnāt expecting to see you till class.ā
āYeah, well āā he held up his schedule. āI came here to fix a mistake with my, uh⦠subjects. I saw you outside.ā
āAs did I.ā Lottie replied, finding her face feeling warm. āBut, uh, you should probablyā¦ā
She trailed off as Ray gazed at her. Lottie furrowed her brow. āRay?ā
āW-what?ā
āSchedule.ā
āOh! Right! Yes!ā Ray lightly tapped his forehead, and Lottie laughed. āMy schedule. What I came for. Now.ā
Lottie found herself waiting for Ray as he chatted with the secretary, and realized what she was doing ā exactly the opposite of what her parents had said. Fraternizing like this, with Ray. A boy.
A white boy.
But he was just a friend, Lottie thought, touching her Afro to see if anything was off. A freckled, large, sweet and sorta stupid one. Sheād always liked big boys, anyway. They could lift a lot. She then wondered, all embarrassing and unprompted, what itād be like if he lifted her up into his arms.
Stop it! Lottie scolded herself. That is so⦠sinful, and lustful, and ā
āHey,ā Ray said, snapping Lottie out of her thoughts. āIt looks like we share the same homeroom teacher ā but I think homeroomās over by now.ā
āOh, really?ā Lottie replied, and they left the office together. Ray nodded at her.
āReal - ly,ā he drew out the last part of the word, and looked around the hall. People had gone to class. āOh, we have the same class first.ā
āThatās nice,ā Lottie replied, before squinting at her timetable. āWe have⦠hmm⦠algebra.ā She said the last word with visible annoyance. āI hate algebra so much. I wish we were having English instead.ā
āEnglish?ā Ray repeated, and Lottie noticed one of his front teeth were chipped. āIām not very good at it.ā
āOh, I love it,ā Lottie sighed. āIām ever so good at English.ā
āReally?ā Ray said, surprised. āI didnāt think youād be the type to be into it.ā
Lottie cocked her brow, narrowing her eyes at Ray. āWhatās that supposed to mean?ā
Ray blinked, his cheeks turning red. āI donāt know ā you just didnāt seem like the type.ā
Lottie scoffed. āWhat, you think Iām an illiterate, lazy slacker, is that right? Is that the impression you have of me? Because Iām āā
āN - no!ā Ray spluttered, shaking his head as Lottie frowned. āYou justā¦ā
āYouāre makinā it worse, jumper.ā Lottieās southern twang came out more when she was upset; Ray felt like punching himself in the face. āIām leavinā.ā
And with that, Lottie turned away from Ray.
āLottie!ā Ray called out, slightly alarmed. She didnāt respond, her hips doing that slight sway once more as she stormed off. He hurried after her, half -jogging in the empty corridor. She was fast. āYou donāt know where the classroom for algebra is, you know.ā He panted, looking at her profile. She didnāt look back at him. āYouāll need a guide.ā
āI donāt need your help.ā She breathed.
āLottie, Iām sorry,ā Ray said, strands of his hair falling into his face. āI really didnāt mean it like that, I swear.ā
He meant that she seemed cooler ā not a nerd or a loser like him; probably a cheerleader or on a team of some sort ā maybe even into music. Not stories or literature. Maybe she knew how to do the cha - cha. He hoped she would, because he wanted to do it with her. Heād been stupid to assume all that stuff. He was acting stupid. Who was he fooling? Ray Garraty didnāt know how to talk to girls.
Especially not a pretty one like Lottie Green.
āLottie,ā Ray said breathlessly, still keeping pace with her, āPlease āā
āGo away,ā Lottie snapped back. She didnāt know why she was getting all worked up ā she usually wouldnāt have paid any mind, but her morning had been all funny. What with her father mentioning the Walk, remembering her eldest brother who wasnāt quite around, the whispers from other students⦠she felt hyper - sensitive, overly wary.
Rayās legs had started to hurt from keeping up with Lottie ā they passed the door of their algebra class. Lottie had no idea where she was goingā¦
āLottie, weāā
āShut up.ā Lottie replied. Ray sighed, casting a feverish look back to their classesā door. Without thinking, he gently took hold of her arm, and she turned around to face him, sizing him up with mounting alarm.
āWhat are you āā
āThe algebra class,ā Ray started slowly, pulling Lottie by the arm and closer to him. āIs that way.ā He pointed back to the door theyād passed, and Lottie could hear the muffled voice of a teacher. She gave him a look before taking her hand out of his grasp and walking back to the door hed pointed at. Ray sighed before following her, and before she opened the door to the classroom, she looked back at him.
āDonāt sit next to me.ā She said simply.
āI canāt make any promises.ā Ray replied, trying to joke. Lottie rolled her eyes,and his face fell slightly. āI didnāt mean it like that, Lottie. I can promise you that. Really, I swear.ā
Lottie sized him up once more, pursing her lips ā before giving him an almost imperceptible nod.
āDoes that mean Iām forgiven?ā
āIt means weāre goinā to class, Ray,ā Lottie replied, before pushing the door open.
The classroom, initially bumbling with chatter and conversation amongst the students as the teacher tried to keep peace, fell silent as the two entered ā like the rest of the school, it was run - down and dingy. There were posters on the wall plastered with the face of the Major pointing out to the viewer. Underneath, the bold text read : THE MAJOR NEEDS YOU TO JOIN THE YEARLY WALK. Underneath, in slightly smaller text: SEIZE GLORY AND RICHES BEYOND YOUR WILDEST DREAMS.
The paint on the walls were peeling, and the place stunk of smoke and tobacco ā the desks that the students sat on were riddled with writings from previous years. They stared various vulgarities, but you would never see anything insulting the Major or the government. Theyād find out who wrote it and have them arrested, or worse, killed. The tiled floor was covered in brown footprints from the less than well - off studentsā shoes, which was every studentās shoes, because everybody was poor. Everybody was also staring at Lottie, and then Ray, and then Lottie again, and then Ray. Lottie then realized how odd and gossip - inducing it was to stroll into her first class late, and with Ray.
A white boy.
āRaymond Garraty, you may sit down,ā the teacher, a wrinkly old woman, droned. There were only two desks that were empty, and they were at the back. Lottie cursed internally as Ray hesitantly walked to the back, amongst hushed whispers and giggles.
āNow, class,ā the teacher said, gesturing to Lottie with one hand. āThis is our new student, Charlotte Green. She came up from Louisiana, and sheās joining us rather late in the year. Charlotte,ā the teacher turned to her, only very mild interest present in her eyes. āCare to tell us about yourself?ā
Lottie, whoād been staring at the floor the entire time, looked up at the class. They were all staring back at her, Ray giving her a hesitant thumbs - up from the back.
āUhā¦ā Lottie started, trying not to look into the eyes of the Majorās posters. āWell, you all can call me Lottie, much less formal than Charlotte.ā
Someone coughed, and Lottie wrung her hands before continuing. āI like readinā and writinā and such⦠I hope to be an author one day.ā
Someone snickered, and Lottie felt her face become hot. She didnāt look anyone in the eyes, especially Ray. This was stupid. This was all so stupid. She wished she was back in Louisiana, with her friends. āYeah, thatās about it ā my Pa owns the new grocery store in town, yāall can always pass byā¦ā
āHey, you some sort of country bumpkin?ā A girl asked ā Lottieās face burned as the class broke out into snickers once more. Ray shot a nasty look at the girl as the teacher called for silence.
āUh, no, Iām not.ā Lottie said firmly, staring at her. āAnd even if I was, whatās wrong with that?ā
āWell, shoot. I āshore donāt know.ā another boy mocked her, and the class broke out into full - blown laughter. Lottieās face, Ray saw, was becoming red with embarrassment ā he turned to the boy who had mocked her, and saw it was Davidson.
āHey, shut the fuck up, Davidson!ā Ray shot back, and the class broke into low oohs. Ben wolf - whistled then, winking at Lottie.
āLooks like Garratyās got the hots for the new girl.ā He said, and the class laughed even more. Lottie, having enough of this, shouldered her satchel and marched to the back of the class. Multiple boys whistled at her on her way, and she plopped down in the only desk available ā the one next to Ray.
āNow that youāve all settled down,ā the teacher said pointedly, before turning to the whiteboard ā it was already covered with formulae . āTurn to page 67ā¦ā
The teacherās voice faded out as Lottie felt a paper ball hit the side of her head. She turned to see who it could be from; Ray, who was on her right, waved. She scoffed and looked back to her notebook. She wasnāt supposed to be fraternizing with him. Wasnāt supposed to ā
She felt another paper ball hit her.
Gripping her pen tightly, she wrote down the date.
Another one.
Now, the topic ā
Another one.
And the first formulaā¦
Another one.
āRay!ā She hissed at him finally, glaring at him. He had a crooked smile on his face, and she couldnāt help but smile a little in return. āWhat in heavenās name do you want?ā
Ray looked to the teacher to make sure she wasnāt watching; then slowly took out a straw. Charlotte raised her eyebrows but he pointed at it, before pointing at Davidson and the girl whoād made fun of her.
āWatchā¦ā he whispered back. āā¦and learn.ā He then put a slimy looking ball of paper in the straw (the ones heād thrown at Lottie had been dry) and aimed the straw at the back of the girlās shiny, blonde head. He then blew, hard ā the spitball flew out of the straw, and burrowed itself in the girlās hair. Lottie covered her mouth then, her body shaking with silent laughter as Ray aimed another spitball at Davidson. The girl didnāt seem to notice she had one in her hair, but some other people did; there were some sniggers in the class. Ray then shot a spitball straight into Davidsonās neck.
He reacted immediately. āUgh!ā He exclaimed, taking the spitball off his neck and inspecting it. āWhat the fuāā
āLanguage, boy,ā their teacher said sternly, and both Ray and Lottie giggled into their hands. āOr youāll see yourself out of my classroom.ā
Davidsonās shoulders slumped as the rest of the class laughed at him, and Ray looked at Lottie, whoād thrown her head back. Full - body laugh. He felt his face burn as he pointed to the girl, who hadnāt noticed hers.
āNow that oneās going to be a surprise for her later,ā he whispered, and Lottie looked at him, still giggling.
āYouāreā¦ā Lottie was slightly out of breath, still giggling, but managed to whisper. ā⦠Lord, youāre a riot, Ray.ā
āThank you.ā He mock - bowed in his seat, and Lottie smiled at him.
Suddenly, he felt something hit his head. Like a small rock. He tried to ignore it, tried staying in the memory with Lottie, but he felt something hit him again.
He didnāt want to turn around ā he knew if he did, everything would disappear. Everything would ā
āRay!ā
No, he thought, all panicked. He didnāt want to go back to the Walk. He didnāt want to go back to the ā
āRay!ā
Goddamn it McVries, he thought. Let me stay here. Let me ā
āRAY!ā
Ray startled, and saw that the classroom was gone ā he was in the present now, at the Walk. Pete was walking beside him, and he saw that he had a small pile of stones in hand. That mustāve been what had been thrown at him so many times, he thought grudgingly ā Pete was smiling at him, close to skipping. Stebbins, who was behind them, chewed noisily into a jam sandwich. It had been three hours since they started the Walk.
āYou looked all dazed,ā Pete said then, dropping the pebbles he had collected onto the road. Other Walkers chatted among them as they went. āLike you was daydreaminā.ā
āLook!ā Harkness said eagerly, pointing at a cow grazing at the side of the road. Ray groaned. āA cow!ā
āShut the fuck up, Harkness.ā Stebbins spat, his face all moody. The sun was beating down on all of them. āWe can all see it.ā
āYou kept mumbling something about some āLottieā,ā Art Baker quipped, before whistling and nudging Hank Olson. The latter smacked his arm away.
āWhat?ā Ray blinked, still remembering Lottieās curls.
āLot - tie,ā Pete repeated for Ray, slowly. āYou deaf as well as dumb, man?ā Ray rolled his eyes, smiling at Pete before elbowing him.
āI was having a good daydream, thatās what I was doing.ā He answered, finally ā he pointed at Pete. āDonāt do that again.ā
Pete threw his arms up, still chuckling. āAlright, Garraty ā you just reminded me of one of those unresponsive kids they have in the loony bins.ā Pete wet his lips, and Ray found himself staring at them. His face became warm. āI was just checking on you.ā
āYeahā¦ā Ray railed off, looking away. āI donāt always need to be checked on, do I?ā He stared off into the horizon. Collie, who was ahead of them, glanced back and scoffed.
āFuckinā bumpkin,ā he muttered. Ray picked up a pebble from the floor, getting a warning ā and threw it at Collie.
āWhat the fuck, Garraty?!ā Collie yelled, and Ray laughed with the others, all apart from Pete, who stared at Ray for a long moment, brows furrowed ā and then looked away.
how Lottie was moving when Ray said he didnāt expect her to like English
ā complementary moodboard for you (I didnāt realize you had a face claim for Lottie until i reread your other posts; Iāve just imagined her as Fanta) and all I say is he big (affectionately) and greedy
- please donāt abandon this projectš„¹ it so hard to find black!oc/black!reader that not just plain smut, it nice to read stories about black!reader/black!oc having love stories like every other reader fic
I know itās past Halloween now, but I still wanted to make headcanons for each boyās favorite horror movie. Which turned into two of their favorite horror movies because I couldn't decide between some. Shhhh let me have fun
(Also this technically takes place in my Modern College AU)
Harkness - The Thing (1982) and Sinister (2012)
I see Harkness as being a huge fan of good practical special effects in movies, and The Thing is a masterclass in that. Special effects aside, itās also such a good story and Iād put money that Harkness has tried to figure out exactly when each person got assimilated. He read the short story the movie was based on after Stebbins told him about it (itās a good story, but he still prefers the movie since he saw that first.) (Also donāt talk to him about the prequel they made in 2011, he HATES that movie)
Stebbins called Harkness the fuck out when he showed them Sinister. He just turned to him and said āYou like this movie because you wouldāve done the exact same thing Ethan Hawkeās character did.ā (āI wouldnāt have watched the snuff films!ā āNot for a book you were writing?ā ā⦠I mightāve watched the snuff films for a book I was writing.ā)
Olson - Poltergeist (1982) and Slumber Party Massacre (1982)
Poltergeist was the first horror movie he ever saw and bc of that it holds a special place in his heart. Will also mention the ācurseā that ākilledā some of the actors every time the movie gets brought up.
He swears he likes Slumber Party Massacre for more than JUST the nudity (he does), but no one believes him. āNo guys I swear itās really goodā Look me dead in the eye and tell me the fridge scene isnāt fucking hilarious!ā
Baker - The Exorcist (1973) and The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
You would think a religious fella would hate religious horror but NOOOOOOO, he finds The Exorcist to be terrifying and thatās why itās one of his favorites. I mean, horror IS supposed to scare you. He just canāt watch it at home ācus the rest of his family despises the movie.
I personally picture Baker as one of those people who you do not expect to like horror movies at all, and then when you ask him to pick a favorite he pulls out something like Silence of the Lambs. He always watches it with at least one other person there with him, because it does genuinely unnerve him, but itās one of his favorites still.
Barkovitch - Killer Klowns from Outer Space (1988) and The Cabin in the Woods (2011)
Look me dead in the eye and tell me you donāt think this motherfucker would find Killer Klowns from Outer Space hilarious. Heās probably disappointed it didnāt turn into a franchise like so many other horror movies did.
He LIVES for the scene where all the monsters escape from containment in The Cabin in the Woods. Probably spent time with Harkness trying to point out all the monsters and killers and what each one is a reference to.
Parker - Saw (2004) and Final Destination (2000)
Put on any Saw movie and heāll be yelling at the screen on how they should be escaping the traps. The first one is his favorite, but he likes pretty much the whole franchise. Also likes to dunk on Jigsawās killing philosophy. āAh yes. The horrible crime of ābeing depressedā. Definitely gun collar-worthy.ā
Similarly yelling at the screen for all the Final Destination movies, but this time for people getting themselves into those situations. The tanning bed scene from the third movie (his favorite in the franchise) infuriates him the most. Also is mad at the characters who donāt believe the character that has the vision. (āShe just saved your fucking life BELIEVE HERā āYou know you wouldnāt believe someone had a vision if you were in that situationāā āFUCK OFFā)
McVries - Us (2019) and Happy Death Day (2017)
I feel like heād be a fan of Jordan Peele, with Us being his favorite of the movies he has so far. Itās just such so unnerving and has such a strong message, and the fact that basically every actor plays two characters is just really impressive. Also a huge fan of the soundtrack.
McVries is a sucker for the character arc in Happy Death Day. Like, does it suck that it took the main character being murdered multiple times for her to realize she needs to improve as a person? Yes, but she got there!
Garraty - American Werewolf in London (1981) and Jaws (1975)
I see both American Werewolf in London and Jaws as being movies that Garratyās dad showed him when he was a kid or preteen. The movies themselves are good, but the nostalgia they give him are really what make them special to him.
I also can see Garraty as being a fan of really old movies in general, also as something his dad would show him.
Stebbins - The Strangers (2008) and I Know What You Did Last Summer (1997)
I think Stebbins would like The Strangers for being a slow-build that really ramps up the tension and suspense for a while. Also the mystery of never knowing who the titular strangers are, and their only motive being ābecause you were homeā. Not as much of a fan of the sequel, but itās still good.
I think Stebbins prefers horror movies where the killer is a mystery and/or theyāre trying to figure out who the killer is, like in I Know What You Did Last Summer. If heās watching a slasher, he wants there to be a whodunnit aspect to it, otherwise itās just not as fun to him.
Me and Parker having the same taste in movies, I hate watch Spiral and love all final destination movies (ignoring 5) I disagree with Olson, the funniest scenes are with Valerie and her sister; and the movie choice for Stebbins I literally finished reading a fanfic of Strangers x TLW AUš
I am a magnet for broken pieces.
I am attracted to broken people.
I pick 'em up and now my fingers are bleeding -
And it looks like my fault.
And it looks like I'm caught red-handedā¦Ā
Part One: Told You So
Summary:
You and Ray have been friends for years, and you have come to depend on each other for a lot. That's why you're shocked to find out that he entered The Long Walk without telling you, and he's leaving for the starting line tomorrow. Not only did you think that he despised The Long Walk and everything it stands for, but you thought at the very least that he would warn you sooner. Of course, he knew that you would have tried to talk him out of it, like you're already doing.
All he wants now is a goodbye. But it's not coming in the form of warmth and kisses and sweet nothings like he thought it would. You're not planning on letting go of him with anything less than deep claw marks and screams. You're not the kind of girl who will let him go quietly into the night... and he can't even begin to know what that means. Not just for him, but for the fate of the road he's about to embark on.
Virgin!Ray Garraty x Fem!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Emotional Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Smut. Based on the film The Long Walk (2025).Ā
Word Count: 31,300
The Long Walk Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist |
Full warnings list and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: the reader is referred to as a girl or a woman and uses she/her pronouns (though, as with most of my fics, most of the pronouns used are you/yours), and during the sex scene(s), the reader is described as having a vagina and breasts; the reader characterās looks are not described in anyway in terms of hair colour, weight, skin tone, or eye colour; the reader character is described as wearing dresses during her younger years and jeans and tee shirts as she gets older; the reader character as a complex relationship with femininity (I donāt want to say ātomboyā, but there is themes surrounding gender roles in the fic); this fic does use the term Y/N, and I highly recommend that you get a word replacer extension for your browser to enhance the reading experience; for reference, in the main timeline/the main part of this fic, Ray and the reader character are both 19 years old - Iām not sure where I read it, but I saw someone say that is how old Rayās character is supposed to be, in other sections (in the flashbacks) they are 12 or 16, but in the main chunk of the fic (what would be the canon of the film) they are both 19 (if you want more clarification on this ātimelineā, feel free to ask me); a moment of Ray being slightly sexist at the beginning - itās a flashback when heās a child, so itās a moment guided by immaturity; also there is general tones of sexism due to the source material being themed after the 70s - themes of gender roles (and how people are disliked for breaking them), toxic masculinity, etc.; mentions of Ray being bullied in school as a child (and somewhat into his teenage years), and while most of that bullying is name calling, some of that bullying is physical violence; mentions of the canon character death of Rayās father; mentions of some disordered eating habits (the reader skips meals often, due to emotions and bad habits rather than body image); Ray and the reader both smoke cigarettes/tobacco; passing mention of the reader smoking weed; the reader does drink alcohol, and she has an unhealthy relationship with alcohol, and there is a family history of alcoholism (though itās never specifically called that); there is some discussion of the readerās family members, but the reader is not related to any canon characters and the readerās family memberās physical traits are not described - the reader characterās family members are also not given names, so you can fill in those blanks in your head if you like; there is a mention of the reader being able to fit into her fatherās old clothes - so sorry if thatās not accurate to your life but the fatherās body type is never described so it doesnāt denote the readerās body type, which is ultimately my goal.
Themes of militarism and military propaganda, in alignment with the original film; a few times āThe Warā is mentioned, and like the film, I intentionally kept it vague; mentions of āmarriage lawsā that arenāt in the canon source material (something that I made up) - basically, the idea that young people (especially fertile young women) should get married when they turn 18 in order to increase the birth rate; passing mentions of religion (in the form of Christianity) (I have mentioned that the reader character is not religious); the general horrors and trauma of The Long Walk - mentions of bloody and scarred feet (and other types of physical injuries), mentions of people being forced to shit themselves to survive, mentions of people being shot in the head, mentions of emotional trauma (for participants and spectators), general death, blood, and horror; graphic descriptions of injuries that occur on The Long Walk (the same level of graphic as the film); the reader slaps Ray (not in a sexual way) - not hard enough to permanently injure, just out of shock/anger; mentions of gun violence; the reader points a gun at Ray as a threat (but itās not loaded); Ray refers to the reader having sex as āwhoring it outā (again, gender roles) (and him being petty and jealous); (briefly) the reader having suicidal ideations; Hank x Clementine as a background ship; a couple of slightly homophobic comments from Barkovitch; there is undertones of Pete x Ray (that get increasingly stronger in the second part) because I could not help it, these two have undeniable chemistry, itās just part of them; for the actual smut scene - while Ray is a virgin (which is something he explicitly states), the reader character is not a virgin, she has had sex with other guys before and has much more experience with sex than Ray does; there are no specifically outlined roles, but the reader is more dominant and Ray is more submissive; slightly dubious consent - the characters are upset about outside things and their relationship is undefined, and they donāt expressly ask consent to have sex with each other, but they very much want it; hair pulling (towards Ray); biting (towards Ray); unprotected penis in vagina sex (Ray glosses over the consequences of unprotected sex in his mind but nothing actually comes of it); the reader spanks Ray on the ass (once); mild choking towards Ray; creampie (Ray cums inside the reader - but thereās no breeding kink); oral - reader receiving; passing mention of masturbation (and Ray having masturbation fantasies about you); I think that is actually it. Please let me know if there are any warnings I missed or anything you would like me to add.
A/N: Fun fact, the very first bit of this is based on my experience in moving from a very large more 'city' type place to a very, very small town (I think the place I lived is technically too small to even be considered a 'town', which is hilarious) - so the whole 'there is no groceries and we're in a split level class' bit isn't even meant to depict the whole Post-War desolate economy, it's a real life experience that I had lmao. Anyway - I hope you all enjoy this intensely unhinged fic I wrote, and I hope you stick around for Part Two later on.
...
Maine was a desolate place.Ā
It was very different from what you were used to, growing up in Washington, DC. You were used to the hustle and bustle of living on a military base, a place that was constantly filled with people and never seemed to shut down, not even at night. You were used to attending a school that had more than thirty kids in one class, and that class not even making up the entire grade level. You were used to your fatherās friends - people from his unit coming in and out of your house at all hours. You were used to your home belonging to other people constantly - your fatherās unit members and their wives and their children too. You were used to the grocery stores on the base being stocked with the best foods, and your family always being given the best treatment because your father was a high ranking member and you were his special princess.Ā
You had come to hate the quiet. And you only realized that because of how terribly quiet it was in the middle of nowhere fucking Maine.Ā
Now you lived in the middle of nowhere among wheat fields and attended a split grade level class where the teacher was forced to give the same material to sixth and seventh graders all at once in order to make up a āfullā school room of a dozen kids. When you went to the store with your mother - a store that was a whole twenty minute drive away from where you lived, most items were out of stock most times, and you ended up eating things out of cans for dinner most nights of the week.Ā
Most people spoke with confident ignorance and were generally insufferable. Most people except for Ray Garraty.Ā
That much you had easily learned in the short year that you had lived in Maine. Well, it would soon be coming up on one year exactly. It was almost the one year anniversary of your fatherās death, and while you hated life without him, and still dearly missed him every fucking day; you hated living without your hero, hated living without your favourite person in the world⦠you had been getting used to it now. The harsh wound was slowly healing over, especially with the help of Rayās humor and friendship helping you move forward.Ā
And it did help you to think about the fact that your father had died for a good cause. He was still a hero that you could look up to.Ā
These days, you focused on enjoying the little things - the surprising highlights of living in such a boring place. Like the popsicle mold that Rayās mom had picked up at a secondhand sale and the good Kool Aid mix she put into it to give to you and Ray as a frosty treat. Because even though it was only April, it was quickly becoming hotter outside with each day, the sun beating down on the expanse of nothingness with a particularly brutality - like it was hell bent to cook you all like bugs under a magnifying glass.Ā
You enjoyed the fact that the old play park was only a short walk away from your neighboring houses, and you were now both sitting on the squeaking, slightly rusty old swings as you enjoyed slurping on the popsicles. You enjoyed the easy silence of Rayās company, liking that he was someone you didnāt have to talk to constantly and it didnāt feel awkward. You enjoyed the bright sun and the light breeze, the sound of it whipping through all the overgrown grass.Ā
You were also looking forward to watching The Long Walk on TV soon, something that was a highlight of your year every single year. You didnāt have a TV in your house (the one you used to have apparently belonged to the military base, so your family hadnāt been allowed to take it when you moved out). But Elsie Fisher, a girl from school, said her family always had a group of people over every year to watch, and you could come.Ā
Her parents always made a big deal about watching it, having snacks, making an event of it, even having a betting pool. You knew that happened on the base sometimes, but it was highly frowned upon when it came to The Long Walk - your father would go on long rants about how people should be ashamed to make bets on something so āhonorableā, and how it was about pride and āthe grit of the human spiritā, not about humans being treated like horses.Ā
You had nearly told Elsie that when she had shown you this yearās roster and asked for your bet, but you didnāt want to be kicked out of her party. (Instead, you told her that you didnāt have any money to spare as a bet, and she accepted this answer.)Ā
Rayās family had a small black and white TV, but he said they didnāt watch The Long Walk. You didnāt know why, though. You wanted to invite him to come to Eslieās party to watch with you - even though she hadnāt told him specifically to come. He deserved to watch the broadcast too. He deserved to see the boys playing, going through the trial - he deserved to see the hero that would emerge victorious as the winner.Ā
You considered it to be a very transformative experience, and it always filled you with pride and hope when you watched it. Ray deserved to get that experience too. He might end up doing The Walk someday, so he deserved to see how it was done.Ā
āWhat are you thinking about?ā Ray asked, noticing that you hadnāt said anything for a while - which was rare for you.Ā
You were standing on the edge of a tire swing - one that was laid flat and held up by three chains, swaying, spinning yourself in slow circles while you sucked on your popsicle. Ray was sitting still on one of the other single seat swings, squinting up at you through the sun, getting some drops of the bright red juice down his chin and onto his shirt without even noticing.Ā
āIf you won The Long Walk - what would you wish for?ā You asked, now entirely curious about this.Ā
Both of you were only twelve, so Ray was far off from being the mandatory eighteen in order to enter - but still, you wondered if he ever would. You wondered if he had a wish that would drive him to take up the challenge. It was something you had heard guys talking about on the playground at school before, but he had never bothered to give his two cents to the conversation. You thought it was likely just because he didnāt think much of those guys, and surely, he would have an answer for you.Ā
āI would never enter The Long Walk.ā He told you, no hesitation, absolutely firm in this conviction.Ā
This immediately confused you.Ā
Everyone entered The Long Walk.Ā
It wasnāt mandatory, but you hadnāt heard of anybody who hadnāt entered their name at least once. The only people who didnāt enter werenāt medically fit to do so - and sometimes even they tried to sneak past with fake medical forms. Sometimes they succeeded. The only other people you knew who didnāt enter were people who worked with the military, because they werenāt legally eligible to enter a contest run by the military. It was something your father had called āa conflict of interestā. They could end up cheating. You had heard so many young men on the base talk about how they were jealous that they couldnāt enter while watching The Long Walk on TV.Ā
āWhy not?ā You rushed to ask.Ā
āMy dad said I should never do it.ā He told you, using a tone of palpable insight that he often used with you, talking down to you in a way that he never meant to. You scowled at him. āHe says The Major just screws people over-āĀ
āShut up!ā You hissed, leaning over and kicking him lightly in the back with your foot, no real force behind it, causing him to grunt. āYou canāt say that about The Major! Youāll get Squadded!āĀ
Your head whipped around frantically in paranoia, as though waiting for someone to pop out with a gun and start shooting. He craned his neck, scanning the area before he sharply rolled his eyes.Ā
āThereās nobody around.ā He sighed. āBesides, itās true.āĀ
āIt is not.ā You argued, your voice taking on a whiny, petulant tone that irritated Ray to his core.Ā
You were someone so strong, someone so defiant in every other area of life - but when it came time to talk about the military, the precious gods your father had walked among, you so easily repeated back every single piece of garbage they had taught you like it was sacred scripture.Ā
āThe Major is a good man, and he deserves respect.ā You said, your chest puffing out confidently with these words. āHe works hard to run The Long Walk. He does great work in giving young men an opportunity to better their lives and the lives of those around them. Our country would be nothing without him.āĀ
You grinned, quoting something from the handbook practically word for word, having never even read that book before. You had just heard those same words recycled from so many other people, so many times. You had been spoonfed those ideas so many times without even realizing how highly manufactured it all was. You were their princess - their perfect little puppet.Ā
Ray just let out a harsh, irritated sigh and shook his head, knowing it was pointless to argue against you. You were incredibly stubborn and stuck in your ways of thinking. His father had warned him not to corrupt your idea that your father was āa heroā, even if it was continually annoying to hear you go spouting off about it. It was something you needed to hold onto in mourning - it was something that you needed to believe.Ā
āBut come on, if you did enter, and you won - what would you wish for?ā You pressed, still wanting to know his answer.Ā
To you, it was a fun game. It was a theoretical discussion that made you picture him older, slightly sweaty and dirty, being praised by a big crowd at the finish line, people throwing flowers at him while he gave a tired smile of victory and cameras flashed toward him. For some reason, it also made you picture yourself running up to him and kissing him as a part of that victory, him wrapping his arms around you eagerly like you were the best part of the prize. But you pushed that thought away for now.Ā
āOkay, if I entered - which I wouldnāt,ā He said, specifically mincing his words. āIf I entered, and if somehow I won, I would probably wish for⦠I dunno, Iād wish for a million popsicles.āĀ
He shrugged, giving the most non-serious answer that he could think of.Ā
At the moment, he could think of nothing so big and tangible that would largely improve his life. His family was poor, and the money would definitely change his life in so many good ways, but the winner also got a lot of money without having to wish for it. But still, he would never enter The Long Walk. His father had warned him that the money wasnāt worth potentially dying over - so he should never enter. He should just try to work hard to earn his own money, even if that seemed difficult or impossible at times.Ā
(In the back of his mind, he considered wishing that you would have to stay with him forever. Wishing that you would have to marry him and you would never get to leave. But he figured you wouldnāt like that, just like you didnāt like him disagreeing with you about The Major.)Ā
āIf you won, youād be rich.ā You reminded him. āThe winner gets like - a gazillion dollars. You could just buy a million popsicles. Thatās a dumb wish.āĀ
Maybe thatās why he wanted to wish for you. Because you thought he was dumb, and the second you got the chance - you would leave him. He had dreams where he chained you to him and jumped to the bottom of the ocean, and when you both sunk to the bottom, you smiled at him. But he knew that life wasnāt like that.Ā
He shrugged. āWell, I guess Iām dumb.āĀ
āI would enter but - they donāt let girls in.ā You sighed, sounding mournful over it. āWhy do you think that is?āĀ
The words dangled dangerously on his tongue:Ā
āBecause girls are weaker.āĀ
Instead of speaking, he sucked on his melting popsicle, knowing that it would be dangerous to say it. You probably would have punched him hard enough to leave a bruise just to prove the words wrong.Ā
He thought about one of your first days attending his school, when one of the boys said that girls were all sissy crybabies because he had seen you shedding tears over the thought of your father, and in response, you had pinned him to the ground and pulled out several chunks of his hair and left a knee-sized bruise in his back getting him to eat dirt. Nobody reported it to a teacher because they were all too afraid to admit that they were scared of a girl.Ā
āI donāt know.ā He shrugged. āProbably just cause it started with guys and they never thought to put girls in too.āĀ
You nodded, seeming satisfied with this answer.Ā
Ray did feel a sense of relief at the thought - the idea that girls werenāt allowed. You loved The Long Walk, and he knew that if you could have, you would have entered as soon as you turned eighteen. And you would have entered as many times as it took for you to be chosen. You would have been their proud, enthusiastic poster child if you were a boy.Ā
So, knowing that it was all purely theoretical, he decided to play into your game.Ā
āWhat would you wish for if you won?ā He asked you.Ā
āTwo million popsicles.ā You grinned, proud to one-up his answer. He let out a small laugh, shaking his head, and then you added on more seriously: āMaybe Iād wish for The Long Walk to include girls too.āĀ
āOkay, now thatās dumb.ā Ray scolded you. āCause if they included girls, then you would already be there. Your wish would be useless.āĀ
āMaybe Iāll dress up as a boy and sneak in.ā You shrugged, sounding entirely too pleased with yourself as this came to mind.Ā
Ray felt a sharp pain through his stomach, like he had been punched. He hoped that you were joking, and he hated the thoughtful look that came across your face - like you were truly deciphering this as a plan that could be put into action.Ā
āI donāt think The Major would like that.ā He said, quickly trying to flush this idea out of your head with your own logic. āBesides - youāre way too pretty to ever pass as a boy. Nobody would believe you.āĀ
Before you could linger on this comment and how warm it made you feel, someone shouted across the playground, calling out to the two of you.Ā
āWell look! Itās Gallon Sized Garraty and his little military wife!āĀ
It was a group of boys from school who regularly bothered Ray, and by extension, now regularly bothered you. You could barely be bothered to remember their names. Bobby, Johnny, and something else stupid. Eddie? Who knowsā¦Ā
Bobby, the ring-leader type was grinning widely at his supposedly clever insult while the others laughed in his ear and high-fived him over it, and you couldnāt keep your mouth shut, now highly annoyed by their presence. Though Ray had warned you several times in the past ānot to engageā.Ā
āHey idiot, a gallon isnāt even that big! Especially not compared to a person!ā You shouted back. āYouāre not even clever!āĀ
āOkay, well your boyfriend is still a fucking fatass!ā He shouted back with a glare, obviously hating being corrected by you.Ā
You didnāt bother to correct him about Ray not being your āboyfriendā - too annoyed by his general mouth-breathing to care.Ā
You didnāt hesitate to hop down off the swing, and when you charged a few steps over to him, Ray shouted after you, his voice ripe with worry, trying to stop you.Ā
āY/N-!āĀ
But it was too late - you were already heaving your arm back and letting loose, throwing your half-melted, half-eaten popsicle at him, causing a mess of bright red, cold juice and mush to splatter all over his face and his shirt. You found yourself satisfied that it looked like blood.Ā
āEw!ā He screamed. His lackeys laughed, and he glared at them. āIām gonna fucking kill you, you little bitch!āĀ
āOooh, Iām so scared.ā You taunted him, giving a very obviously fake and exaggerated shiver of fear before you let out a mocking laugh. āWhat are you gonna do - strangle me with your bra?āĀ
His lackeys let out another round of laughter at this, and he became even more flustered, and even more angry because of it.Ā
āIāll bash your head in with a fucking rock and dump your body in the woods! Itās not like your dead daddyās here to protect you!āĀ
With this comment, you made a vicious charge toward him, your hands outstretched like claws and ready to kill. But before you could get any closer, someone taller and stronger than you - someone who definitely wasnāt Ray, wrapped an arm around your waist and held you back, using your own energy to spin you back around toward the swingset, away from Bobby.Ā
āAlright, thatās enough.āĀ
When the oddly calm voice grunted boredly in your ear, you heaved out a sigh of frustration. It was your older brother.Ā
āSeriously?!ā You cried out at him, crossing your arms, intentionally leaning past him to give the bullies a sharp glare. They were all laughing at you now, laughing at how easily you had been stopped. (Little did they know that the only reason you hadnāt fought him harder was because you had no desire to stop him - you didnāt want to hurt him with anger you had built up against someone else.) āThose fuckers deserve it-!āĀ
āLanguage.ā He told you sharply. āIf Dad heard you talking like that, heād make you hold your tongue for an hour.āĀ
You wanted to make a comment about how your dad was no longer around, but you didnāt want your brother to make you hold your tongue just to prove a point. It was a punishment in which you were forced to stand with your tongue between your two fingers, something gross and uncomfortable to remind you of the consequences of ānot thinking before you speakā. So instead, you rolled your eyes, and remained silent.Ā
Your brother then turned to the boys.Ā
āEverett, looks like that bike chain is broken,ā He said, nodding toward the pile of bikes that the bullies had dropped.Ā
Everett? Is that what the fuckerās name was?Ā
The specific boy nodded slowly.Ā
āYou can bring it by our place anytime and Iāll fix it up for you. Number seventeen, the one with the blue door, you know it, right?ā He nodded again, and your brother smiled. āI can probably fill the tires for you, too.āĀ
āUh⦠thanks.ā Everett said, entirely awkward, clearly unsure how to handle being greeted with a favour after he had nearly cheered on someone getting into a fight with you.Ā
āSeriously?!ā You shrieked out, appalled by this.Ā
Rather than responding, your brother then gently guided you by the shoulders, beginning to walk away, and Ray naturally followed.Ā
āCome on, itās time for dinner.ā He told you.Ā
āWhat was that?ā You gaped. āYou offered to fix the guyās stupid bike-āĀ
āSometimes you have to kill āem with kindness.ā Your brother told you, clearly still smiling even though you couldnāt see his face. āSomething Iām sure youād know all about, brat.āĀ
He emphasized the nickname - something he started calling you when you were much younger and the two of you used to fight much more, now a symbol of the fact that the one of the only people in the world you truly got along with was him. He was one of the only people you let get away with calling you names.Ā
You rolled your eyes sharply again.Ā
āYeah. With kindness.ā You snorted, bitterness clear in your voice.Ā
That park had been torn down since then, and sometimes Ray walked past the old patches of grass that hadnāt grown back, and he thought about your brother. He thought about someone who wanted to kill the world with kindness - and he wondered what that world would have looked like. But he knew it could never be possible.Ā
ā¦Ā
Ray sat on the porch waiting for you.Ā
Somehow, this had become the most concrete part of his day, the thing that anchored him to the earth better than his motherās cooking and the way she cried late at night when she thought he had fallen asleep and couldnāt hear through the thin, drafty old walls of the house. Though Ray had so many other routine aspects to his life, this one had become the one that he clung onto the most in order to keep him sane.Ā
Every single day, without fail, when you got off your shift at the cannery, you would come home, wash up, change your clothes, and you would skip dinner to instead spend the evening sitting on the porch with Ray while the two of you weaned a stale old cigarette from a pack that you had bartered with someone to get.Ā
Despite Rayās attempts to try to get you to eat, sometimes waiting with a plate of āleftoversā that his mother had sent him with still dutifully hot in his lap, wrapped up in tinfoil for you, you claimed that you werenāt interested in food after such a long day - something you said with increasing frequency these days. Sometimes you would pick at the food Ray had brought you if he truly nagged about it, other times you would come with a bottle of drink in hand, proclaiming that it was a good day because you had gotten your hands on āsomething specialā.Ā
Ray liked the feeling of going to bed fuzzy-headed and numb from the liquor. He liked the almost magical quality of the liquid, and how it made him forget about his problems for a while. But he knew that he shouldnāt like the feeling. He had seen what had happened to your mother, and he knew that he should be more afraid to end up like that.Ā
You were running a bit late tonight. Which didnāt entirely surprise Ray, but still - it worried him.Ā
Usually you were home when the sun was still bright, long before the last buses stopped running, having plenty of time to spare before the county-wide mandated curfew. But with increasing frequency these days, you were coming home later - having to sneak around the military patrols that happened every night around curfew, risking getting caught, risking getting fined for being out past curfew, risking being thrown in jail.Ā
Sometimes you didnāt come home at all at night, and Ray felt like a stupid worrying hen, up all night, peeking through his bedroom window every five minutes to see if the light had turned on in yours across the way. He felt like an idiot, losing out on sleep, waiting for some signal that you were home safe while his brain ran wild about all the ways that you could have been dead, dying, or hurt.Ā
Even now, Ray sat on the edge of the porch, huddled on the edge of the short three steps, his hands grasping his knees - and he hated the worry that started to overtake him. He hated that he was so used to taking care of you.Ā
Ray had known you since the two of you were young - you, your mother, and your brother had moved from DC to this much more isolated community in Maine when you were just eleven years old. Your fatherās death was still so fresh when your family had been uprooted and your whole life had been changed.Ā
He had been a very high ranking member of the military, and at that age, you had not been shy about boasting that he died as a war hero. You proudly wore one of his medals as a necklace - though Ray noticed that in the past few years, it had been allocated to a small metal tin that used to hold dried oats that you now used as a keepsake box. And now, you didnāt boast about your father the way that you used to. You didnāt speak about him unless prompted by someone else.Ā
Your mother had originally been the one working in the cannery when your family first moved here. But it wasnāt long before her spiraling grief over your father meant that she stopped showing up to work, and your brother quit school to take over providing for your family. You looked up to your brother with just as much shine as you had your father, and you took every available opportunity to praise him when you could.Ā
When you first moved in, Rayās mother insisted him over with an offering of her freshly made oatmeal raisin cookies, and the two of you became fast friends. He was the first one you knew at the small, local school, and - loud and mouthy as you were - you were the only one who didnāt call him āGiant Gut Garratyā or other such names, and you spoke out against others for making fun of him.Ā
He couldnāt put into words how grateful he was that not too long after your arrival, the bullying stopped, at least when you were around. Most of the boys in school were more than terrified to admit that they were afraid of you. Of course, this meant that Ray was rattled twice as hard for ākeeping a girl as his body guardā when you werenāt around - but those times were rare.Ā
The two of you spend every single day together - did homework together, spent weekends exploring the woods together, played board games together, read books together. There were few waking moments in your lives that you didnāt spend together, being naively happy. You and Ray were always side by side, no matter what.Ā
In his mindās eye, Ray could still remember it - the two of you happy and laughing as kids. But it felt too long ago to truly see. Too long ago to be real somehow. There was only the two of you now. Two ghosts of those happy kids. Only the porch, only one cigarette, only the breath in which the smoke lasted until it disappeared those few feet up into the air.Ā
He could say that the two of you bonded by proximity or convenience, but he knew that truly, you wouldnāt have stuck so close together if it wasnāt also love. Whether it was completely platonic or some idiotic wandering into the romantic that would be a terrible, heart-breaking mistake - Ray Garraty loved you. And he knew that you wouldnāt keep coming back to sit on this godforsaken porch every single night if you didnāt love him too.Ā
Maybe thatās why he worried more and more when you didnāt show up. Not because he was worried that you had died or gotten hurt - because he knew that you could hold your own. Any man coming at you with ill intentions had no clue what kind of hell he was in for. But he was growing more worried that⦠truly, you didnāt love him in return. He was worried that you wouldnāt have sat in the darkness and waited for him if the roles were reversed.Ā
It was only in the past two or three years that you and Ray started to drift apart.Ā
And the whole time, he had been fighting like hell to hold onto you - trying his best to keep taking care of you, trying to stay in your life.Ā
But he knew exactly what had happened. He knew what had caused the grand cosmic shift.Ā
When you were sixteen, when your brother was freshly eighteen and had truly become āthe man of the houseā, it was up to him to decide what would become of you when you turned eighteen in just a few short years. It was a fitful, fateful time for young women - you would either be assigned a back-breaking work duty or be assigned a husband by marriage laws, something that the government had instituted to try and increase birth rates. However, it could lead to you being shipped halfway across the country, never to return, being forced to spend your life with a total stranger that you had never met before.Ā
So in the face of this, trying to pick the best possible option for his family - your brother signed up for The Long Walk. At the time, when you were both still so young, Ray had considered proposing to you himself. But he knew it was a stupid idea, and he knew that - as headstrong as you were, you would never accept a proposal from him with the idea that it didnāt come from a place of genuine love. Not that he didnāt love you⦠But you would never want to be āsavedā by him - not like that.Ā
So your brother, at the tender age of eighteen, so fresh faced and young, became a lucky qualifier for The Long Walk. Because he was born in DC, he got an extra entry - one as the home state walker, and one as the shiny militant boy from the capital. And naturally, someone pulled some strings to make sure that he got his time in the spotlight. Before he could blink, they outfitted him with all the best gear - stuff he never could have paid for himself, and they gave him an insight of the upcoming monthās weather report, some extra dry rations, and a map of the route. The same route that was taken every year, of course. But he would get a preview of the terrain - including that hellish steep hill that took out at least half a dozen boys every single year.Ā
The people running the whole thing were lucky. They had a perfect winner on their hands. Someone who would look so great on all the pamphlets, someone they could make a great promo movie out of. Someone they could get to smile at the finish line without hesitation, someone who would stand tall and pose next to The Major with no disdain in his heart. Someone who would wish for something grand, but tangible and practical - like a big house for his family to live in, or a kind, loving husband for his sister. (They kept impressing this upon him when he said that he wasnāt sure of his wish, hoping to get a kind of āroyal weddingā out of it too, something they could get another broadcast out of.) They had already printed posters with his face on them, said that they loved āhis lookā. He took after your father - a real hero in the making. (They kept calling him āa rabbitā, and you had no clue why.)Ā
And while Ray watched on from his kitchen window, wickedly curious about all the military personnel weaving in and out of your house, you were promised a shining light at the end of the tunnel. After a few rough years with your father gone, the military had finally come to rescue you, being the heroes that you always knew they were. They promised you a great life filled with any luxury you could want, anything money could pay for - not a single worry in the world.Ā
When you bragged about this to Ray, he couldnāt help but to think that he would be left behind and you would never have to think about him again. You were finally leaving him like he had always feared. But you were so happy, and he couldnāt take that from you.Ā
All you would have to do was sit and wait for your brother to win The Long Walk. It would be easy - it was practically guaranteed. They even brought in a brand new twenty-five inch color television for you and your mother to watch the broadcast on, and Ray and his parents sat and joined you and your mother for it.Ā
When he fell nearly right out of the starting gate, your heart stilled in your chest. You hid behind Ray, bracing for a horror you were told you would never have to see. But he barely had time to get his first warning before he rushed back up again, and he laughed it off. For the next two hundred miles, he didnāt pick up another warning. Not one. He was strong, and steady.Ā
It was that strength that caused you to put all your faith in him, believing that winning would be so easy for him. It was that strength that had you smiling brightly and humming joyfully as you got ready on the morning of the third day, getting ready to stand on the sidewalk in Freeport so that you could wave at your brother and toss a bag of his favourite hard caramel candies at him. You were nothing but excited to see him, joyful that you could give him the extra boost he needed in order to win.Ā
Because he was going to win - you were sure of it.Ā
ā¦Ā
āHow do I look?ā You asked, turning to Ray.Ā
You, your mother, Ray, and Rayās parents had come to watch. Large crowds werenāt allowed to gather yet, not until there were just two Walkers left. But you were all āfamilyā, and the local cop guarding the route hadnāt questioned it when the five of you had piled out of the car to stand on the sidewalk, so it seemed to be okay.Ā
You were wearing one of your best dresses - one you would have worn to church back on the base. But your mother hadnāt gone to church since moving to this new place, or made you go, which did surprise you. Your father had been big on going to church, and your brother still read the bible regularly - he even took one with him in his backpack when he left for The Walk. You had never been big on religion - too many rules for your liking, too much nitpicking (so much arbitrary mess about who was and wasnāt a good person when you found that you could decide for yourself). But that was far aside from the point.Ā
You had grown quite a bit since your church going days, so Mrs. Garraty had used her sewing machine to add a couple of fabric panels to the sides of the dress and one to the hem to lengthen it in order to make it fit better, and though the fabric didnāt match, it looked like an intentionally styled choice. Especially with the use of the thin brown belt that you had added on, and the old new brown leather heeled shoes you were wearing from a secondhand store in town, purchased specifically for this occasion.Ā
Ray reached out and straightened the stiff, well starched (thanks to his mother) white collar of the dress, pressing it down to the back of your neck - you had been fiddling with it so much in the car due to your nerves that it was all out of sorts. He noted in his mind that you did look beautiful, but he wondered why you had dressed up so much for this - he wondered why his mother had made him dress up so much for this. His own starched button up and old, slightly too tight ānice occasionā shoes were definitely bothering him.Ā
āHeās your brother - why would he care what you look like?ā Ray posed. āIāve seen him pick bugs out of your hair before.āĀ
He was pointing out the obvious, of course. Your brother had seen you muddy from playing outside and covered in your own vomit while sick. You had never sought to impress him before - so why did you seem so antsy now?Ā
āYeah, but thereās gonna be TV cameras.ā You replied, nervously smoothing down the bottom of your dress.Ā
Oh. You werenāt worried about impressing your brother, you were worried about the presence of The Long Walk itself - as though you could impress the concept of the race, as though you needed to be as shiny as possible for The Powers That Be.Ā
āTheyāre not gonna be pointed at you.ā Ray let out a scoff of a laugh, trying to let you know how ridiculous you were being. You frowned at him, and he realized how harsh it sounded - as though he was mocking you, as though you werenāt worth filming, and he tried to recover. āTheyāre focused on the Walkers. Thatās what people are watching TV for, right?āĀ
āThey want a stupid death race. Not pretty girls waiting on the sidewalk.ā Ray thought pitifully.Ā
You nodded, and let out a simpering, nervous breath.Ā
āStill, Iām the sister of the winner. Somebody might wanna interview me.ā You said, giving him a cheesy grin, and striking a proud pose.Ā
It was like any other time - like the two of you were just joking around in the backyard while hunting snails with big rocks. You were so confident in your words. You were so damn happy on such a dark day.Ā
And he didnāt have the stomach to tell you that you might be wrong.Ā
Your brother wasnāt āthe winnerā. Not yet, at least. And it wasnāt even guaranteed that he would be the winner in the end. But again, Ray had to choose his words carefully to avoid hurting you.Ā
āNobody is going to interview you,ā He chuckled, trying to sound soft and joking, trying to hide the hurt he was concealing for you, the terror he held deep in his heart for you if your brother did not win. āWeāre gonna watch your brother pass, say hi, and then weāre going home. But yeah - you look fine. You look great.āĀ
You smiled at this, holding your head high.Ā
āDo you think The Majorās gonna be here?ā You asked, eager and bright.Ā
Ray deeply resisted the urge to roll his eyes.Ā
āHeās not gonna take you onto the truck and fuck you.ā He thought bitterly. He bit his tongue - hating how cynical it would have sounded. He hated how you talked about The Major, like he was some god-like figure to be admired, like he could do no wrong. But now wasnāt the time to get into an argument with you about it.Ā
āWhy donāt you go see if you can spot them?ā He said, motioning for you to peek out.Ā
He didnāt intend for you to wander into the middle of the street, and he was just glad that you were innocent looking and pretty and that the guards standing by didnāt shoot you on sight for it.Ā
āWhatās she gonna do if he doesnāt show up?ā Rayās father asked in a hushed whisper, his voice dull and grinding.Ā
āIām just saying, we havenāt had our eyes on the broadcast in - what? More than an hour. A lot can happen in an hour.ā He huffed, checking his watch. āWhat are we gonna do if he doesnāt show up with them?āĀ
āIāll handle it.ā Ray said quietly.Ā
Both of his parents gave him an odd look, as though they hadnāt even realized he had been listening. They didnāt know that he had been preparing himself to deal with this situation from the moment your brother left your front door, waving goodbye to you. With your brother gone, taking care of you was Rayās job now. And further proving that point - your mother didnāt say a word, standing a few feet down, clearly having heard them. Instead, she took a bottle out of her jacket pocket and took a sharp swig.Ā
āOh, itās them!ā You cheered as you saw figures far off down the road, and Ray stepped out and grabbed you by the wrist, having to use a bit of force to pull you back onto the sidewalk while you kept craning your head desperately to see.Ā
It wasnāt long before the trucks guiding the motorcade pulled up, and a horribly shocking sight followed.Ā
A string of stumbling, half dead, filthy boys. Maybe half a dozen of them at this point, whittled down from the fifty that they had started out with. They were zombies - half alive, barely keeping pace. One of them was leaving a trail of bloody footprints, his feet making horrible wet squelches on the pavement as he went - his shoes were long gone, and it seemed like his socks were nothing more than a mush of threads blended into the horrible mess of blood under his feet now. Somehow his face was stony and firm and he was completely silent, not letting out a single sign of being in pain as he stared ahead with an entirely dead expression on his face, marching forward.Ā
One of the boys was crying, muttering quiet words that couldnāt be discerned. His eyes were wide and the tear tracks on his face were cutting through rough dirt and grime, and his shirt was covered in blood - dry and rusting, clearly someone elseās.Ā
One of the boys was wearing pants that were visibly soiled on the back, walking with a gait of true discomfort because of it, distanced from the others, likely due to the smell. Up until now, it had never even occurred to Ray that The Walk did not stop - not even for bathroom breaks.Ā
One of the boys appeared to be missing half his face - bright pink, raw flesh exposed on one side, as though he had been scraped across the pavement and gotten back up somehow. His lips were partially gone, revealing teeth to the air in places they should not have been seen, the flesh grey in some places, seemingly rotting from being untreated after the injury.Ā
Those were the ones worse off, but still - they were all tired, all filthy, all clearly exhausted and mentally absent because of it.Ā
The sights, the smells, things he never could have imagined, even in the darkest corners of his own mind - it made Ray want to vomit. It was nothing like on TV. Ray was utterly horrified.Ā
During the broadcast, they cut away from horrible things happening, they cut angles so it didnāt show things like bloody feet and shit soiled pants and raw, scraped up, fleshy faces. How the fuck could they keep this from people? Somehow, they managed to use the broadcast as a highlight reel of brotherhood - boys sharing things, smiling, laughing, joking. And when they werenāt - it was glory shots of them marching forward with determination, showing their toughness, showing how real men moved forward to go after the things they wanted in life.Ā
Then - there was your brother. Rounding out the pack, and looking no better than anybody else. The quality of the television broadcast had hid so many of the sins. Where he had just looked dirty and tired on TV⦠he looked downright dead in person.Ā
You cheered your brotherās name and clapped, but nobody else in the group joined you. Ray was shocked that you still found the ability to cheer happily - but he guessed that was the entire reason you came, wasnāt it? Even if you were faking happiness, you had come to cheer your brother on. You had to put up a good front for him.Ā
When your brother looked over his shoulder at the group and gave a smile, Ray knew in an instant that something was wrong. His eyes were sunken and sickly, his face seemed lifeless, his lips were cracked and chapped in a horrible way. There were dried red scabs rimming his nose, as though he had been having nosebleeds, and his hair was soaked - though it hadnāt been raining. He was drenched in sweat, his shirt also showing evidence of it, much more so than any of the other terrible-off Walkers.Ā
He let out a horrible cough, and when he raised his hand to give a wave, the grossly discoloured veins running up his arm were undeniable as his shirt sleeve rode up.Ā
āI love you!ā You cheered. āYouāre gonna fuckinā win it all!āĀ
āStop swearing!ā He yelled back, still determinedly stuck on this. āBut I love you too!āĀ
And then - he gave another horrible, deep cough.Ā
You balanced right on the edge of the sidewalk and tossed a small bag you had been holding - a bag of candy that Ray had advised you not to throw.Ā
Your brother stumbled slightly, and caught it.Ā
āWarning, Warning 49! First Warning!āĀ
Somehow, he recovered so quickly, and gave an intensely bright smile that lit up his dead face when he saw what you had given him.Ā
āYou could have warned me, brat!ā He called out to you.Ā
By now, you were jogging swiftly on the sidewalk to keep up with them, and Ray was right behind you, trying to keep up. He would have to pull you back eventually so that you didnāt jaunt halfway across Maine in the worst possible shoes trying to follow your brother. So that you didnāt end up seeing something you would never recover from.Ā
āWhereās the fun in that?ā You called back with a grin.Ā
Your brother opened the bag and immediately began offering the candy around to the other Walkers before he took some for himself, and there were smiles and some other small cheers.Ā
Some chatter could be heard among the Walkers.Ā
āDude, you got presents?āĀ
āYouāre actually sharing?āĀ
āYour sister is hot!āĀ
āShut up, Mikey! Donāt make me push you.āĀ
āItās all empty threats with this guy. Heās too nice.āĀ
āYeah, but you canāt talk like that about a guyās sister, man-āĀ
āIf he doesnāt push you, I will, shitstain.āĀ
Your brother let out a string of harsh coughs, cutting through the chatter, and you had to ask that dreadful question.Ā
āAre you okay?ā Your voice warbled with worry for the first time, and Rayās stomach twisted.Ā
āIām fine! Iāll see you at home!ā He yelled back. āTake care of Mom while Iām gone, brat!āĀ
He gave you another smile over his shoulder and Ray stopped you at the end of the intersection, tugging gently on your elbow to get you to stop walking. You stared on, keeping your eyes focused on the Walkers, focused on him. Ray didnāt pull you back to the car yet, because he knew that you would be determined to watch your brother disappear over the horizon, as far as you could watch him go.Ā
He was now laughing with the other boys as they ate the candies, and the boy who had been crying seemed better off. So something good had come of this. That was the most Ray could have hoped for, right?Ā
āDid he seem okay to you?ā You asked, an unsure tone creeping into your voice for the first time ever in the years that Ray had known you.Ā
āHe looked fine.ā He told you, lying as boldly as he ever had. āHe looked good. Heās strong. Heāll be okay.āĀ
The only thing Ray could hope then was that the other boys would fade quicker than your brother did - quickly enough for him to get to a hospital in time to be saved. He hoped that they had some treatment for whatever was wrong with him.Ā
And then, as if a cruel god was intentionally listening, willing Ray to believe in dread rather than hope - his prayer was answered in a blink.Ā
āWarning, Warning 7! Second Warning!āĀ
āI canāt do it! I canāt do it no more!āĀ
It was the most anguish filled cry that Ray had ever heard in his life. It was a harsher pain in his gut than when Bobby and Everett had pinned Ray down and punched him as many times as they could, citing that him having āmore cushioningā meant that it wouldnāt hurt.Ā
The boy who had shit himself was now crawling on his hands and knees, his mouth open wide as he bawled.Ā
āI wanna go home! I want my Mama! Please!āĀ
One of the men got off the slow moving truck and slid a gun off his shoulder, lining it up with the boyās head as he wept. A move so entirely cold, uncaring. It was so jarring to watch.Ā
Ray grabbed your arm bruise-tight and whipped you back around to face him, forcing your face into his chest with a hand tight on the back of your head. You immediately squirmed, trying to push him away, and somehow - he found more strength than he ever had in his life to hold you.Ā
āRay! Ray, whatās happening?!ā You cried, wiggling in his grasp.Ā
Rayās chest tightened when he noticed your brother running back toward the boy.Ā
āWarning, Warning 49! Second Warning!āĀ
āCome on, come on! You gotta get up! Get up! We can still do it! We can still make it!ā Your brother yelled at him, trying to encourage him, grabbing him by the arm and trying to drag him up.Ā
āI wanna go home!ā The boy sobbed. āI just wanna go home!āĀ
āRay, whatās happening?!ā You screamed again, adding to the chaos. He held you as tightly as he could, determined not to let you look.Ā
āWarning, Warning 7! Final Warning!āĀ
āGet the fuck up!ā Your brother cried out, his voice scraping his throat with intense, ripping desperation.Ā Ā
It was the first time you had ever heard him swear. He had always been so deeply against āfoul languageā because your father had been.Ā
The man put his finger on the trigger of the gun, and Rayās stomach nearly exploded.Ā
āGo!ā He screamed at your brother. āFucking go! You canāt do this in front of her!āĀ
Your brother gave you a mournful look, his eyes flickering from the crying boy toward the back of your head, and then, hesitantly, he turned his back and ran forward to catch up with the other Walkers.Ā
A gunshot rang out, and you flinched against Rayās chest and began sobbing.Ā
āRay, please-ā You choked out, your hands digging into his once pristine shirt, wrinkling it intensely as you couldnāt bear to look on your own.Ā
āIt wasnāt him.ā He assured you. āHe tried to help, but-āĀ
āFucking of course he did. He - he always needs to help.āĀ
You forcefully pulled yourself away from Ray, stepping out into the road once again - something that made his already upset stomach churn harder and made him feel lucky that nobody went after you. You only stopped to stand still once you got visual confirmation that your brother was alive and well.Ā
And then - your eyes lingered on the body of that poor boy for a long time.Ā
It felt like hours later when Ray finally managed to peel you out of the street.Ā
Of course, something changed in you that day. You used to believe that The Long Walk was all about glory. You had been blind to the death and horror of it all. But that was the intention behind the broadcasts, after all.Ā
Somehow, even after crying all the way home - you still believed that you would be meeting your brother at the finish line.Ā
ā¦Ā
It was such a small cut on his hand.Ā
He probably hadnāt even noticed it at first.Ā
When his hand started to swell up, and turn red, and then purple, and then putrid black - he hid it well. He used the scarf that Rayās mother had knitted him to wrap it up, and with the long sleeves of his shirt covering his arms, nobody saw the terrible purpling veins going up his arm - the signs of infection making its way through his blood, slowly killing him. It was easy to write off the dark circles under his eyes as tiredness, exhaustion from walking for days on end without sleep. It was easy to say that his hair was drenched with sweat from the effort, rather than from a deadly fever.Ā
It was such a small cut. A random, seemingly harmless fall on an old metal bridge, the instinct of his arms out front to catch himself. An old bridge that just happened to be unmaintained and rusting.Ā
With medical intervention, the survival rate for tetanus is about ninety percent. Without treatment, the mortality rate is about one in four.
Ironic that there were four walkers left when your brother truly saw the worst of it. His muscles started to spasm, his breath struggling through his lips in harsh wheezes as he fought for every last bit of air. He stumbled on the road in front of the other boys, and as much as he tried to fight it, telling himself that he could keep going as he became dizzy from the lack of oxygen - eventually, he collapsed to the ground.Ā
āWarning, Warning 49! Final Warning!āĀ
In his final moments of life, your brother was hunched on his hands and knees on some dark back road, far from his family, his face horrifically discoloured, his eyes bulging as his lungs burned, yearning for a breath. But still, a gun was carelessly shoved in his face as the screen cut to a much shinier photo of him, one that had been taken weeks before when he had been much more lively, and the announcement of his elimination from the competition played.Ā
There is no prize for fourth place.
You rushed out of the room in tears, utterly hysterical, and Ray had to chase you on and on through the sprawling grass behind your houses before he finally caught up to you and swept you into a hug. The two of you collapsed to the ground, and you cried into his chest until the sun set, unable to move him, and him unwilling to force you anywhere when you were so fragile.Ā
Strangely - the two of you never talked about it. You never spoke about your brotherās death with him, never tried to process it in any other way than crying while he held you. It was a specter of a presence that you refused to acknowledge.Ā
It wasnāt long after that day that you stopped wearing your fatherās medal, and then, in a blink - you started changing so much more. You picked up smoking and drinking, you started wearing heavy make-up and jeans. Seemingly just because you knew that most government pamphlets mandated that women wear skirts for jobs, and while there were no specific laws against women wearing pants, you seemingly wore them more in your spare time just to spite the feminine uniform you had to wear during the day.Ā Ā
He knew that your brotherās death had affected you in such a harsh, terrible way - but he hated that you never talked about it. Any attempts that he made to force a conversation about it had you changing the subject or simply walking away from him. And while it was clear that you fully acknowledged that your brother was dead, clearly not delusional in believing that he was still out there somewhere, often quipping back at Ray with things like āheās goneā or āhe died, why do we need to talk about him?ā - it was clear that you hadnāt truly taken the time to process it. You had refused to believe that The Long Walk might kill him, and when it did, you never acknowledged the huge hole that it caused in your life.Ā
You simply became a different person. One who hid things from Ray. One who came home late or not at all. One who needed cigarettes and booze to survive. One so much different than the girl who stood on the sidewalk that day, cheering her brother on with a bright smile on her face.Ā
And of course, it was just then that you strolled in, proving Rayās point.Ā
He was never sure why you rushed to change your clothes after work. Yes, your work uniform wasnāt pretty, but he never got the sense that you were someone who cared too much about your looks. When your mother used to scold you for getting mud on and ripping holes in your nice dresses, you used to laugh at her and shrug it off.Ā
He could only suspect that you dressed up more lately because you snuck out after dark, even though he wasnāt entirely sure where you went. That part bothered him. He had been tempted to follow you at times, but he had never been brave enough to actually follow through. You joked to him that you went to underground rock concerts - and sometimes you came back smelling like weed, and that worried him more.Ā
Yes, he wasnāt officially your keeper and he couldnāt stop you from breaking laws - not unless he locked you up somewhere. And he had definitely thought about that, and then realized how insane it sounded and shook the thought off. It would break him to see you arrested or hell - even gunned down in the street like his father had been, just to prove some damn point. He knew you would be stubborn enough to stand up and accept a gun in the face rather than putting your head down and sucking The Majorās balls for everyone to see.Ā
Making that point especially clear, on this evening, in addition to your usual wide-legging jeans that were far too tight around your hips and thighs, and your usual beat-up old sneakers with black marker all over the toes and soles (some of which Ray had put there with your permission when your legs had been dangled over his lap), you were wearing intensely thick, dark eyeliner and an old white tee shirt with the sleeves cut off that you had defaced with a black marker. It had some stars drawn on it, and a large caption on the front that said FUCK THE MAJOR in bold, messy letters.Ā
It made Rayās stomach twist with anxiety. (Which harshly battled with attraction and a twinge of lust because he could see your nipples poking through the fabric and he could see the natural teardrop shape of your breasts because you werenāt wearing a bra underneath, perfectly complimenting the little bit of your soft stomach that stuck out from the bottom of your shirt above the very low rise of your jeans.) If you were caught wearing something like that, something with those words on it, you would have been arrested without hesitation. You were becoming far, far too bold.Ā
Maybe he did have a twinge of nostalgia for the days when you wore flowery dresses and white stockings - days when you giggled and smiled more. Days when he never noticed your figure and he certainly never would have thought about peeling those jeans off you to see what was underneath. He loved you now, he always would love you, but - he wanted to go back. He missed the simplicity of those days.Ā
āWhat the fuck is that?ā Ray asked, his voice harsh and accusing as you came to sit beside him, naturally heaving yourself right down beside him on the porch steps without a second thought.Ā
āWhat?ā You shrugged, trying to play dumb.Ā
You reached over to the breast pocket of his button up shirt where you knew the cigarette and lighter would be waiting, dug up from the loose floorboard of his bedroom floor where he kept a stash of your important things and his own. Both of you knew that if you tried to keep your own cigarettes at your place, your mother would have found them and puffed them all away within a week.Ā
He batted your hand away, hoping that he would be able to convince you to go home and change before the two of you settled into your nightly routine, knowing that it would likely be futile. He hoped that he would actually be able to enjoy this night with you - even though the sun was quickly turning the sky orange and there wasnāt much of it left to enjoy before you both had to get home when curfew hit. (He hoped that you would actually go home for curfew and stay there.)Ā
He just wanted to spend some time with you. He just wanted to enjoy you. He didnāt need your shirt being spotted by someone. He didnāt need you being hauled off in handcuffs. He didnāt need to be worrying about you when he had so much already on his plate.Ā
āWhat the fuck are you wearing?ā He clarified, though you both already knew what he was talking about. āGo change.āĀ
You let out a scoff and rolled your eyes, and his insides soured. He knew what was coming.Ā
āNo.ā You snarled, entirely confident, not even giving it a second thought. Ray rolled his eyes, and you shook your head. āYouāre not my fucking father.ā You fired back easily. āUnless you wanna become some militant, scum-sucking pig-āĀ
āSays you, who used to call him a hero.ā Ray argued. He found it ironic that you now so easily fired off such horrible names toward the military, when they used to be such precious heroes in your eyes.Ā
Your face fell, and he wasnāt surprised when you shifted the subject.Ā
āIām just saying, you have no right to dictate what I wear. And I wouldnāt expect you to be so fascist about it.ā You told him, your voice quieter now. āIām off the clock, and I can wear whatever I want now.āĀ
You groped for Rayās breast pocket again, the minimal bit of contact unintentionally making him warm as your fingers successfully captured the cigarette and the lighter this time. He became too weak and dumb to stop you a second time as a whole body tingle set in, and you flashed a victorious smirk as you brought the cigarette up to your lips and sparked the lighter. He had to push down thoughts about how long it had been since the last time the two of you hugged as he tried to navigate his way back toward the point. He tried not to be jealous of that tobacco being squeezed so dutifully between the plumpness of your lips and sucked on.Ā
He told himself that he wasnāt pathetic and ultimately weak in the wake of you.Ā
āYeah but you canāt wear that.ā He pressed, gesturing toward your shirt. āNo matter what fuckinā clock youāre on.āĀ
You exhaled a harsh puff of smoke, shaking your head as you extended the cigarette out to him. And still, as annoyed as he was with you, he took it. He knew that he could likely use the calming effect right now. He took a greedy lungful, getting too dizzy waiting for your reply.Ā
āItās a shirt, Ray.ā You hissed, almost whispering. āCalm down.āĀ
āGod, you are such a - such a fucking faker.ā He huffed in return, smoke flying out his nose with the fury of his words.Ā
Your face contorted at this, partially frustrated, partially confused because you genuinely had no clue what he meant. He took another hot draw and then hesitantly passed the smoke back to you, and moved on heatedly to explain himself.Ā
āYou wanna rebel so badly, but you donāt have the balls to.ā He said, his words casual, yet somehow bleeding with anger. An anger that had been building up for months toward you. āYou go out all night partying, you complain about the system, but you donāt make the effort to make any real change. And I bet if The Major walked around that corner right now, youād piss your dumb, tight little pants-āĀ
āShut the fuck up, Garraty.ā You bit back, your voice dull rather than fighting. Truly - you knew that he wasnāt the enemy. You took a draw, and then added on: āYou know nothing about my life, or what Iād be willing to do.āĀ
He stared at you with harsh eyes, like a dog glaring through a cage, silently begging to be let out, as the smoke whipped past your lips.Ā
āBecause you shut me out.āĀ
He wanted to be bitter. He wanted to yell and stomp and cry over the fact that you had been trying to phase him out of your life since your brotherās death. He wanted to be more outwardly pissy that you werenāt leaning on him. He took the cigarette back from you and you frowned at him.Ā
āYouāre gonna get arrested.ā He snapped, knowing that his worry for you came off as bitter frustration. He couldnāt help it, couldnāt control it. You rolled your eyes again, and it only further pushed him. āDo you know what those military prisons are like? Do you have any idea what they do to people?ā You remained silent, and he couldnāt contain himself. āThey shave your head, they waterboard you. They tie you up and leave you hanging for hours until the muscles in your arms go and your lungs start to give out, they-āĀ
āYeah, because you would know.ā You hissed back. āPlease, enlighten me from your time locked up.āĀ
Ray knew that you wouldnāt listen to reason, and he remained silent.Ā
āOr was it just horror stories from Daddy trying to get you to keep secret about the old copies of Neet-she that he kept under the floorboards?āĀ
He should have been more offended about you talking about his father, but he had pulled the ādead dadā card first.Ā
āShut up.ā He sighed, taking another puff, looking off into the warmth of the orange sky rather than at you.Ā
He hated that he found you pronouncing āNietzscheā incorrect to be oddly adorable. He hated that he let you take the cigarette back from him without another word. He hated that he had nothing else clever to say, letting the two of you fall into an easy silence as the sun fully set in the sky.Ā
The two of you finished off the cigarette in silence, and as usual, he let you have the last drag from his fingers when the cherry was just barely biting at his skin - taking that bit of pain for you so you could properly enjoy it. (In the back of his mind, he pretended that you were kissing him on purpose - that you would have wanted to kiss his fingers because you loved him like that too.)Ā
When you were done with it, he stomped it under the heel of his old, worn-out shoe - a pair that used to belong to his father. As the silence lulled between the two of you, and as he suspected that you would likely get up and leave any moment - he knew that he couldnāt wait much longer.Ā
He had to tell you.Ā
āIām doing The Walk.āĀ
He announced it suddenly, hoping to rip off the metaphorical band-aid, making it quick. In a moment, the air changed around the two of you. The calm, warm night air turned bitter and your relaxed posture - leaning back on your elbows with your legs outstretched completely shifted. You sat up straight and looked at him with a tense expression: a mixture of pure fear and dread painting your features as you waited for him to clarify, as though you thought your ears were mistaken.Ā
You were waiting for him to take it back.Ā
Ray exhaled anxiously, hated what would come next.Ā
āI was selected for The Long Walk. Iām the home state walker. I-āĀ
Anything further he had to say was disrupted by a harsh slap across the face. He shouldnāt have been surprised, and though you had clearly intended to hurt him, the stinging pain wasnāt nearly as bad as the shock - the shock that you would hit him.Ā
āOw!āĀ
āHow could you do this?ā You screeched, your voice bellowing out in a terrible yell as you shot up off the porch, trying to distance yourself from him as though he had some kind of terrible disease. āHow could you do this to us?!āĀ
He barely had the capacity to take in the way you used āusā - as though the two of you were certainly a couple, as though you were married, as though you were undoubtedly an item that he was selfishly trying to break apart without consulting you first. (Which was how he felt about a lot of your actions as of late, ironically.) Maybe that was already how you felt about the status of your relationship - your friendship so close and certain that you didnāt need a romantic label with Ray for that āusā to be more important. Losing him as a friend would already hurt too much.Ā
Perhaps in your mind, you were looping in his mother as well - that āusā being the two of you, the women who would have to mourn him when he (in your mind) inevitably didnāt come home. He didnāt have the room to think about it, because once again, his worry for you flared up.Ā
āHow the fuck could you be such an idiot, Raymond Garraty? How could you be so selfish?!āĀ
There were ordinances in place against too much noise - especially after dark. And your yells were against those rules. You were definitely too emotional to see that right now. You were angry and too wound up to care that you were being too loud about it.Ā
āCan you keep it the fuck down?ā He hissed under his breath. āYouāre gonna get a noise ticket!āĀ
You clenched your jaw and shook your head, crossing your arms sharply over his chest, hating that this was his only response.Ā
When your words truly hit him, he added on:Ā
āSelfish? How the fuck can you call me selfish when Iām doing this for the betterment of-?āĀ
āDonāt feed me that bullshit!ā You screamed back, and he immediately shushed you. You ignored it. āYou fuckinā hypocrite! You hate everything they stand for and youāre gonna turn into some fucking toy for their amusement? Donāt tell me that you of all people have fallen for the bullshit in those pamphlets - not after everything your dad taught you.āĀ
He knew that he could never make you understand. His fatherās death had driven him toward The Walk with a divine purpose, not away from it.Ā
āItās not about the goddamn pamphlets.ā He shook his head. āOr the posters, or the commercials. Iām doing this for me.ā He knew he couldnāt tell you his real reasoning, or surely - you would slap him again. You would try to stop him. Or even more insane - you would try to help. āWe need the money-āĀ
āNo!ā You shouted again. āNot āweā! Donāt loop me into your stupid, nut job idea!āĀ
āCan you stop yelling, please?ā He begged, his stomach twisting horribly at the idea of you getting arrested right before he had to leave for The Walk.Ā
Fuck - if one of the neighbours called in about a simple noise ticket (which was was already bad enough to have on your record), and someone following up on that ticket saw your shirt, you would be thrown in jail without a second thought. And then, Ray would have to win The Walk and use his wish on getting you out, which is not what he had intended to do.Ā
You stood there, your hands hovering tightly at your sides, looking like you were resisting the urge to slap him again. You rubbed your palms tightly on the denim, and then you huffed out:Ā
āEight by five.āĀ
You couldnāt even look him in the eyes now. You were staring at the ground, your breath coming out in shallow bursts.Ā
He knew that you had your arms stuck to your sides to keep your hands from shaking and he had to resist the urge to jump up off the porch and sweep you into a hug. He had a feeling that you likely wouldnāt accept his affection right now, but he wanted so desperately to comfort you. He wished that he had another cigarette to offer you, but the rest were still up in his bedroom, tucked under that floorboard - right alongside the books his father had hidden for him and some old notes that the two of you had exchanged in class, back when that felt like the most rebellious thing you ever could have done.Ā
āWhat?ā Ray gaped, having no idea what you were talking about.Ā
āEight by five. Thatās the size of the cardboard box theyāll send you back in. Or - whateverās left of you. Your ashes, at least.āĀ
Your voice quivered as you said this, showing the first bit of your anger and spite giving way to fear and sadness - showing the true bereavement you felt for a man who was still alive in front of you. These days, you thought of The Long Walk as certain death. You thought Ray was nothing more than a dead man in front of you, waiting to be shot.Ā
Ray hated that you didnāt seem to believe in him. That you seemed so determined that he could not win. But part of him couldnāt blame you. Your brother had been practically guaranteed success, and still -Ā
āMy brother now sits in a box on the fucking mantel.ā You said, the words grinding against your throat harshly as your barely contained sobs strangled you. āYou pass by him every single time you come into my house. He makes a great ornament, along with my drunk, catatonic mother-āĀ
āI get it, alright?ā He huffed back, the guilt beginning to gnaw at him now. He was putting you through it again - forcing you to sit in front of a television for days, just waiting for him to win or die.Ā
āNo. No, I donāt think you do.ā You spit back bitterly, breathless as you tried your hardest to choke back tears. āThey donāt even send back your tags. They reuse the same ones every year. So youāre gonna be wearing a number that some other guy died in.āĀ
You heaved out a sigh and collapsed back down beside Ray, too weak to stand any longer.Ā
āWhy are you trying to scare me?ā He asked, gentle, contemplative. āYou really think I donāt know what I signed up for?āĀ
āIf you knew, you wouldnāt have signed up.ā You told him, your voice still entirely bitter, but quiet now as the power seeped out of you, becoming too tired to further argue.Ā
You turned your head away, but he still saw the way your hand moved toward your face, hastily wiping at tears.Ā
āIām not scared of dying.ā Ray declared defiantly.Ā
You shook your head harshly. You wanted to protest - wanted to tell him that he was selfish again. You wanted to cry out:Ā
āIām scared of you dying, dickhead. What about me? What am I supposed to do when you die?āĀ
But instead, you stayed bitterly silent.Ā
Ray hated how your lack of response felt like a knife twisting through his gut. He wasnāt sure how he had been expecting this to go. He knew that you would never take it well. Goodbyes were never fond for anybody. He knew it was never going to be good, which was probably why he had been avoiding telling you for as long as he possibly could. But still, he had naively hoped that your last night together would be better than this.Ā
In the back of his mind, he had dreamed that it would be much, much different than this. And that hope led to him saying something incredibly stupid.Ā
āIām not scared of dying - but I donāt wanna die a virgin.āĀ
In the back of his mind, he did have a dreamy perspective on the whole thing. He thought that this confession would elicit something passionate from you. It was more than likely something that you already knew, just from being around him nearly all his life and knowing that heād never had a girlfriend before, knowing that mostly everyone assumed that you were his girlfriend. You let people assume it, even though the two of you had never even kissed before.Ā
He imagined that him being brave enough to actually say the words aloud would prompt some kind of reaction from you. Especially knowing that he was going off to near certain death. You would want to give him one last great night before he left, you would want him to not spend the night worrying about the horrors ahead, and the two of you would lock yourselves in his room and spend hours making love.Ā
You would tell him that you loved him. You would mean it. He would tell you that he couldnāt say it back until he reached the finish line - and he would make it there. He would think about you the whole time to make it there.Ā
Maybe a version of you from a few years ago would have been emotionally moved by this statement. A version of you that had still believed The Long Walk was winnable before your brother was killed by an old bridge. But now -Ā
You let out a dry, bitter laugh. You whipped your head back toward him, and your expression was nothing short of venomous. But still, somehow he wasnāt prepared for the words you hurled at him next.Ā
āYouāre a pathetic idiot, Raymond Garraty. And I donāt pity you.āĀ
Ouch.Ā
He let out a soft sigh, defeated, and still - you kept going. As if willed on to prove beyond a doubt that he was so utterly wrong for trying to prompt sex out of you, especially after doing something as stupid as signing up for The Long Walk. You needed to hurt him as badly as he hurt you by signing his life away.Ā
āYou know, just cause I have a pussy, doesnāt mean Iām gonna pity fuck you.ā You spat the words viciously, and it was a terrible slap in the face to him. It was a righteous reality check that had him quickly ripped away from his visions of sweet skin on skin and whispered āI love youās. āIām not gonna get all weak in the knees just cause you signed yourself up for a death march. Iām not gonna send you off cum drunk and happy with a kiss on the cheek. Iām not gonna fucking reward you for this. I am not that girl.āĀ
Deep down, he knew this was how he should have expected it to go. Still - your words left him a little wounded.Ā
āI get it.ā He mumbled. āIām an idiot.āĀ
āUnderstatement of the fucking year.ā You said tiredly in return.Ā
A large part of him knew that your hostility was coming from a place of love. You were terrified of losing him.Ā
Your entire family had already been taken from you by The Long Walk. Your father when working as a guard (and inevitably an executioner) on The Walk. He had gotten killed in the crossfire when someone charged the motorcade. (At least, that was the story Ray had overheard your mother telling his parents). Your brother had died trying to follow a supposedly easy path to victory, trying to gain a better life for you.Ā
And even though your mother was still alive and breathing - she was a ghost of a person, consumed by grief, intentionally killing herself with every passing day, drinking herself to death as she sat between portraits of your father and brother, frozen in time where she had lost them. She pretended that you did not exist because you served no true purpose in her life. You were not either of the men that she had lost, so she did not acknowledge you.Ā
The Long Walk had wiped out your entire family, and it was coming for Ray next.Ā
At the end of the street, about a mile down, a pair of bright, blinding headlights pulled up. It was a military truck, three soldiers - a small unit on a nightly patrol.Ā
Instinctively, Ray checked his watch - one that had belonged to his father.Ā
āItās getting close to curfew. You should go home.āĀ
It was only a short walk next door, but if the two of you were caught out here, especially while you were wearing that fucking shirt - it wouldnāt just be a warning or a ticket with a fine, it would be something much worse. Ray might even be banned from doing The Walk. It would be easy to replace him with someone else. One of the many eager people who had entered and not been chosen. And if his place was taken from him - boom, there goes all the fucking plans he made.Ā
Instead of getting up and running off home, you remained stony and silent, sniffing back tears, refusing to look at Ray. Even as the truckās headlights drew closer, you didnāt seem too scared of getting caught, which made Ray all the more anxious. It was a presence that crept along, driving at a crawl, shining a spotlight between the houses to check for any āillicit activitiesā - mostly so that people knew they were being watched, that was most important of all.Ā
You didnāt speak on the matter of curfew - you didnāt say goodnight or goodbye or tell Ray to fuck off. Instead, you brought up something else entirely.Ā
āYouāre gonna need boots.ā You stated. You knew it was likely hopeless that he would win. But in your mind, now, you were fighting to give him the best odds. āThe handbook recommends boots. Youāre not gonna get very far on those shitty old things.āĀ
You gently kicked his foot, and he took a glance of shame down at his fatherās old shoes, the soles already peeling away in some places, the laces ratty and worn and ready to snap. He wasnāt surprised that you still remembered things from The Long Walk Handbook - he had seen you pouring over it viciously in the days before your brother had to depart, as though you knowing everything in it would help him somehow.Ā
āGrand fucking observation.ā He sighed, utterly sarcastic, taking a glance over his shoulder, trying to see how far away the truck was - still far, barely crawling up the street. āGive me fifty bucks to buy a new pair before tomorrow and Iāll be on my way.āĀ
He knew that you didnāt have that kind of money. Between your motherās habits and her ability to sniff out money wherever you hid it, the fact that you often gave her money to get her off your back, and the fact that your job never paid that well in the first place - it was money you did not have. There were no stores in the desolate town anyway, not ones that sold good clothing. If anybody could scrounge up money for clothing that wasnāt patched together and second hand - they went to the city to buy it.Ā
So he didnāt have the time or the money to get a new pair of boots before the nine am call to the front of the line.Ā
āCome with me.ā You breathed out, no true authority in your voice, knowing Ray was so used to following you that he would easily take the order.Ā
You pushed yourself off the porch, walking off confidently. Hesitantly - taking another glance behind him to see how far off the truck was, hating the feeling of being watched even though they couldnāt yet see him, he moved to follow you. He followed you through the overgrown grass that had spurted up between your two houses. He was surprised when, instead of walking to the side screen door that led into your kitchen, you moved back behind the house, and went over to your brotherās long untouched old tool shed.Ā
He caught a glimpse of your mother through that screen door - in the same place that she always was, sitting in front of your old TV, the light of the screen being the only one cast through the house at this time. She was watching a highlight reel that one of your fatherās friends had made for her after she begged to see her son again. Footage from his Walk, playing on a loop over and over again - the last bits of his life, stuck, frozen in time. She sat there, and watched him, and drank. And that was her life now.Ā
Ray had a passing thought about his mother ending up like that if he didnāt come home. Except for the fact that she would have no special favours to call in, and she would only get to see him again if they found him worthy of putting in their films. Which wouldnāt happen if he was particularly pathetic - if he ended up in twentieth place, or did something gracefully stupid, like dying first.Ā
He had to shake it off, literally forcing the thoughts out of his head as he turned back to you and took the extra steps to catch up, coming to stand behind you at the shedās door. He watched as you grabbed a small key from above the door and then struggled with the large padlock - it being particularly sticky and tough after not being opened for so long.Ā
Eventually, you did get it to work for you, and you opened the door and tossed the loose lock inside on the floor. When Ray lingered awkwardly by the door, you huffed out:Ā
āCome on.āĀ
He stepped inside, and you reached overhead, pulling on a small chain for the single lightbulb - one you surely thought would be dead. Luckily, it still cast a dull yellow light over everything, and you crouched down and began to look through the many boxes that had been allocated to this space as unimportant. Things that had been cast in here as junk, but were still too good to get rid of completely.Ā
To the left, Ray noticed a waist-high tool bench. Your brother used to be very good at mending things. He was the kind of person who could get an old jewelry box to play music again, old rollerblades to spin. He had fixed dents in Rayās mothers pans and sharpened her knives when needed. He was someone always ready with a kind hand and a helping smile.Ā
The bench however, seemed frozen in time. The wall above it was consumed by a large map - and Ray quickly realized that the bright red marking highlighted on it must have been the route that your brother had been given for The Long Walk. He had to wonder if this would be of any use to him, if they performed the same route every single year⦠but surely, they wouldnāt be so stupid. So many things could go wrong if they did things that way. Sabotage, a potential ambush, people cheating somehow.Ā
There were also lists of supplies that he would need, and several of your fatherās medals displayed - almost as if they were motivators for him while he prepared for the journey.Ā
āHere.āĀ
You turned back with something in your extended arm, and Rayās stomach gave another harsh twist when he saw that it was a pair of military grade combat boots.Ā
āThese belonged to my father. Theyāll probably fit you.āĀ
As though the cool aura of a ghost had taken over the room, a chill shifted down Rayās spine. Though you had stopped wearing his medal, Ray knew how⦠careful you were when it came to your fatherās memory. How precious you were about his things being just so. You kept one of his shirts on a hook in your closet, and one time Ray had accidentally knocked it over, and you had called him a clumsy moron and not spoken to him for more than a whole day. (The longest that the two of you had gone without speaking since you had met.)Ā
He knew this was a big gesture coming from you. Monumental, in fact. You hated that he had signed up for The Walk - but you were willing good faith onto him to force him to get through it and come out on the other side. You werenāt going to let him die so easily.Ā
He reached for the boots, and once he got a good grip on them and tried to take them from you, you refused to let go. You looked into his eyes fiercely, looking for any kind of deadness - any sign that this was a suicidal streak, any sign that he was doing this because he had truly given up on you. You saw none, and that scared you even more.Ā
Why the fuck had he signed up?Ā
āBack out.ā You said, your throat clenching down on the words way too much for your liking, turning it into a sad, sorrowful whisper rather than the firm order than you intended. āYou know itās a death sentence. You donāt have to do it-āĀ
āI canāt.ā Ray argued gently. āThe backout date already passed. They changed it. Too many guys were backing out morning of and leaving them scrambling for replacements.āĀ
āFuck off.ā You hissed, shoving the boots toward him, causing him to let out a grunt as the heft hit him squarely in the gut. Again, he knew your anger was not truly directed at him.Ā
This was sore news to you, though strangely, you understood it. It was too much effort to have back-ups bussed out and waiting in the wings. They could have too much uproar on their hands if the potential replacements threw fits in disappointment if they didnāt get to participate. So many people got those last minute jitters, got too emotional saying goodbye to their loved ones at the starting line. It was easier when people had distance from the start of it, when they could be sure weeks out and then unsure when it was too late to back out.Ā
Ray knelt down and started untying his old shoes, looking to try on the boots and hopefully, if they fit well, exchange his old shoes for these. The boots were sturdy, and they would carry him a lot farther. His stomach soured when you moved over to the work bench, turning your back to him, and he heard you sniffling once again, poorly concealing more cries. He couldnāt see it, but you were running your fingers over your fatherās medals, thinking about him.Ā
You had never told a soul before, not even Ray - but on the morning that your brother had left for The Walk, he had been escorted to the startling line by a soldier who was a dear friend of your fatherās. And that man gave you a letter - an envelope slipped into your pocket with the whispered words that you shouldnāt tell anybody. You had become so distracted with watching your brotherās progress on TV that you soon forgot about it, didnāt even consider what it might be. It was only days later, when you were laying in bed, soaked in tears and woefully mourning your brotherās death that you had seen the paper hanging out of your jacket pocket, thrown over the back of your desk chair in a haste, and you remembered it once again.Ā
It had been your fatherās handwriting. Something he had written to your brother years previous with you only mentioned as a third party. It had been written shortly before his death. And it explained everything.Ā
Though your father had fought in The War and thought it was a valiant cause, and at the time, he had won medals for saving his fellow soldiers and civilians along the way, he was beginning to see through the lovely haze that the military painted. The War had been won. There were no more dangers for him to be protecting innocent people against. There was no need for him to use his power and authority to harass everyday people. And though he loved his country and what wearing the uniform represented, he was beginning to question the orders that he was being given.Ā
When they asked him to work on The Long Walk, that was the last straw for him.Ā
At first, he refused. He saw no point in callously killing young boys in the name of some contest - but of course, The Major went through the one vein he knew would make your father truly bleed. His family was threatened. They told your father that his son was āguaranteedā a spot on The Walk when he turned eighteen, whether he entered or not, perhaps āeven soonerā. They told him that his daughter would make a nice prize for one of the Walkers some day, a nice ātreatā to dangle on a race with no finish line, threatening to change the rules altogether. He threatened other things that your father ādare not write downā - and you couldnāt imagine what horrors they had taunted him with.Ā
So he surrendered, and he joined them. And they made his death look like an accident. A war hero who was taken down by a young man who didnāt even know how to use a gun. In reality, he had been shot by one of his fellow soldiers from an angle that cameras couldnāt see. His death hadnāt been quick - he had been shot in the gut and dragged behind the motorcade for more than a mile. That was something you had read on the back of the letter, written in guilt by your fatherās friend, something he thought you āneeded to knowā.Ā
It had happened out of view of the cameras, just another act of censorship where life was so much different than what they showed on television. A punishment of agony and humiliation where the Walkers were allowed to laugh at him, mock him, and even piss on him as he slowly died. A clear warning to any other soldiers who considered speaking up against The Long Walk.Ā
Of course, your father had no idea it would happen. He was just writing the letter as a case of insurance, feeling the pressure encroach on him. Wanting your brother to remember him truthfully. But it was too late. His son was hauled off to a fate he was supposed to be protected from, and you were the last one left standing. It was a truth that never should have gotten to you - and it only did because of a man whose life your father had saved once, and a sense of loyalty that no longer fit this world.Ā
Your fatherās best friend had held onto the letter for a long time, debating whether or not he should give it to you. But seeing your brother be taken away and knowing that he might not come back, knowing that you were finally mature enough to handle the contents of what your father had written down - he finally delivered it to you. Your father had died abandoning a naive child, but the young woman who was waving her brother off needed to know the truth.Ā
Reading that letter changed you. You had been someone who fed into all of it since you were a child. Uncle Sam protects us. America The Beautiful - The Land of The Free, and The Home of The Brave. So why the fuck would they kill your father on purpose? Why would they go after the bravest man you knew? That wasnāt freedom. That wasnāt justice.Ā
It was a bitter pill to swallow, but you came to realize in such a short, crashing time - it was all rigged. It was all fucked. They picked your brother as their favourite and they couldnāt even stop him from dying. And they abandoned your family the second that they were no longer of use to the US Government.Ā
So - what now? Where the fuck were you supposed to from here?Ā
They were about to kill off the last good man in your life, the last thing you had to love. They were about to finish taking everything from you. And then what?Ā
Ray felt strange as he stood up wearing your fatherās boots. They fit well, and they had the odd comfort of having been worn-in for many hours by someone else before.Ā
āThey fit.ā He said dully, unsure if you were listening or if you were mentally someplace else.Ā
You didnāt respond, and he hoped that he could have the worn-in comfort of telling you another horrible thing while you were too far gone to hear it.Ā
āWhen I win, Iām gonna kill The Major.āĀ
Your breath stilled in your chest. You wanted to ask āhowā, but knowing him, he already had a plan. He wouldnāt have set out on this if he didnāt. He wasnāt going to hash out the details with you, but it was probably a stupid plan.Ā
Of all the fucking stupid, thoughtless things -Ā
If there was a small chance of him winning and being able to come home, he was going to ruin it. He was going to be arrested on site or shot in the fucking head. Winner for the press, be damned. They would never let him get away with it.Ā
āMoron-ā You wheezed, almost unable to breathe past all the intense emotions you were feeling. āYou fucking-āĀ
Acting purely on the rage flowing through your veins, you reached underneath the wood of the work bench and groped blindly for something you knew had to be there. Rayās entire system tightened with panic when you whipped around with a gun in hand. He had no clue what kind of gun it was, he wasnāt knowledgeable enough to identify it on sight - but he had to guess that it had been your fatherās sidearm when he was active on duty. Somehow, you had ended up with it and hidden it here.Ā
You pressed it tightly to Rayās neck, and he backed up one step, then two, until he was tripping over the boxes, his entire body tight with anxiety as you crowded up against him, pressing the barrel into his throat tightly enough to make him gag.Ā
What the hell were you doing?Ā
Ray didnāt know that it wasnāt loaded.Ā
Your brother made sure the few bullets that you had were stored separately - the goody-two-shoes part of him was always hell bent about stuff like that. He had been the one to screw a metal bracket under the table to hide it, not wanting to get caught with it. Perhaps the worst thing he ever did was keep it when his too good nature meant he should have turned it in after your fatherās death.Ā
Yes, you and your brother both had gun training at a young age because your father insisted upon it. But what the hell would the two of you ever have to shoot at?
āI should fucking kill you right now.ā You choked out, horribly breathless as fat tears streaked down your cheeks - somehow, you were the one infinitely more afraid while he had a gun pressed to his neck. āIt would be quicker.āĀ
If he was so determined to die, you should be the one to do it. He belonged to you - he had nearly all his life. His death should be yours too. Why should they be the ones to take him from you? Why should they get to take more from you?Ā
He was yours.Ā
You should be the one to do him the mercy. You should get to keep him close by. You should get to visit him.Ā
You shouldnāt have to accept another set of ashes in a damn box.Ā
Ray stared you down with wide eyes, seemingly more terrified for your mental state than the fact that there was a gun pressed to his neck. Tense emotions flashed through him - a spark of panic, fear, worry, love - but not once did he look truly terrorized. He swallowed thickly, and brought a shaking hand up, prepared to take the gun from you. Not for a second did he ever truly believe that you were ready to actually shoot him.Ā
Of course, just then - the military patrol truck made it to this point on the street. The blinding lights came around the side of Rayās house first, and it gave him just enough time to act fast. Not even considering you as a potential danger of your gun, not considering it a danger at all when wielded by you, he shoved past you and reached for the door to the shed, grabbing it and shutting the two of you inside. And then, realizing it would be a dead giveaway, he reached up and yanked on the chain to the lightbulb overhead, turning it off.Ā
As the headlights and the shifting manned spotlight on top of the truck came closer, Ray realized that there was a small window beside the shedās door. It was partially obscured by boxes, but the two of you might still be spotted through it. So, trying his best to hide, he shoved himself right up against you, unintentionally pinning you to the work bench with the gun tightly wedged between your bodies in order not to be seen through that window.Ā
You were both silent - barely even breathing as the lights passed, as the loud diesel engine of the truck chugged on, taking far too long to pass. Once it was gone, you were both swallowed up into a terrible darkness. But neither of you bothered to reach up and turn on the light.Ā
Instinctively, hating the feeling of the metal pressed up against his body, Ray reached over and snatched the gun from your grip, and you let it go almost too easily. He put it on the work bench top and abandoned it there - hoping it would stay there, out of your hands.Ā
Ray stood with his hands on either side of you then, trapping you against the work bench, glaring at you with intense anger in his eyes as you were overwhelmed by the heat coming off him. You were too tired to escape, and you were forced to listen to him now.Ā
āYouāre the moron if you think that pointing a gun at me is any kind of good idea,ā He huffed, his breath annoyed and hot against your face.Ā
You scowled at him, your eyes settled into a mixture of anger and horrible sour love that he had never seen from you before.Ā
āWhy the fuck do you wanna wave that thing in my face when you could be pointing it at those assholes outside? Why are you being so fuckinā petty, huh?ā He spoke in a low, bitter tone, and the sourness in your gut clashed horribly with something you never wanted to admit was lust while you stared at the pink of his lips, so damn close. āWhy the fuck would you point it at me when you could point it at someone like The Major? You have a gun and the skills to use it - you could be making real change. But you have such a pissy fucking attitude. All you wanna do is get drunk and whore it out at rock concerts-āĀ
You slapped him again. This one stung more - maybe because that comment had been more personal, and you put more behind it. Maybe because he had been fishing for something he had only suspected up until now, something that kept him up at night that he hated to think about. That part of your nightly activities, part of the reason you snuck around was because you were out with other guys.Ā
And maybe the horrible sting across his cheek now confirmed that for him.Ā
āStop doing that!ā He hissed, reaching up and gently grasping at his cheek, hating that his teeth hurt slightly now.Ā
āYou really think thatās what youāre gonna do?ā You bit back, your throat horribly tight once again.Ā
Ray was slightly dumb - maybe from the slap, but he wondered if you meant that he was going to be the one whoring it out at rock concerts.Ā
āYouāre gonna make āreal changeā?ā You echoed back his words in mocking, and he looked at you dully, believing that he didnāt need to confirm it with words. Of course he believed thatās what killing The Major would do. āYou think that youāre gonna change the world when you have your brains splattered all over the fucking pavement? You think that anybody is gonna remember Ray Garraty after you become just another dead Walker? Do you think that youāre gonna be anything more than just another toy for their game?āĀ
He hated the pinch of your words - the idea that even you might not care to remember him if he died out there. Something that stung harder than any slap to the face ever could have, something that poked his heart like a sharp pin piercing through a balloon, making his insides pop, forcing all the strength out of him, all at once. It was probably the build-up of emotions that drove him to it, drove him truly insane. The fact that he had pictured this night so differently, wanting it to be a beautiful, gentle goodbye, and you were fighting him every single step of the way.Ā
And now, he needed his own way to fight back.Ā
He leaned in before he could think, crowding just a bit further into your personal space, alright so tight near you, and before you could blink, he smothered you in a messy, inexperienced kiss. You let out a startled noise - even with all his talk earlier, somehow, this had been the last thing you expected. You reached up to grab at his shirt, initially in a rush to push him off you, because no - you werenāt going to let this happen. You werenāt going to let him do that soft, predictable thing. You werenāt going to let him kiss you sweetly and āmake loveā to you one time right before he went off and got his brains blown out.Ā
Even if you had wanted this for years, you werenāt going to let it happen now. You werenāt going to let him scoop out your insides and break you in the worst way, leaving you to be nothing more than a drunken ghost sitting next to your mother. You werenāt going to let him fuck you, eternally fucking you up in the process.Ā
Fuck, if he did this, you might just load the gun and go off and shoot yourself the second you knew he got his ticket punched. You had at least one bullet to make that happen.Ā
You couldnāt let him do this.Ā
But still, as your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt and you felt the softness of his chest against your palms, the pure warmth of his flesh - a chest you had laid your head against so many times, both in joy and sadness. When the two of you had spread out a blanket to look up at the stars and he had let you lay against him as a pillow, when he had been your literal rock through your brotherās death, the person you leaned on while you cried⦠you couldnāt bring yourself to push him away. Your grip shook, and stupidly - you pulled him closer.Ā
Feeling him so close - he was too soft, too welcoming, too familiar. He was the comfort that you needed right now when he was the source of your pain.Ā
He moaned against you at this, and soon, that simple lip-lock turned vicious.Ā
You were so angry with him. For signing up, for signing his life away, for wanting to do something as stupid as killing The Major. For damning himself with the idea, for not wanting to come home to you. And now, for doing this. You were so goddamn mad at him.Ā
You bit his bottom lip harshly and shoved your tongue past his teeth without hesitation when his jaw dropped open with a groan of complaint. You couldnāt bring yourself to care about his pain right now - you needed a bit of petty revenge, you needed to feel him. His tongue flailed in his mouth, inexperienced and unsure, desperately trying to keep up, uncaring of the twinge of coppery blood he now tasted, too spoiled with the victory that he was now kissing you.Ā
You put a hand on the back of his head, forcing him in place as you smashed your lips even tighter against his, bruising, trying your hardest to suck the life out of him - trying to make that life yours if he was so damn determined to be wasteful with it. He let out pitiful little whimpers and moans and continued to grip tightly onto the work bench on either side of your waist, all sense leaving him as the oxygen was depleted from his brain.Ā
In the back of his mind, he could sense your experience. He could feel your lips moving in such a precise way, designed to drive him mad. He had to wonder how many other guys you had been with, who they were. But he didnāt have the room to truly be jealous when you gave a sharp tug on the back of his hair and bit his lower lip again. He had you now. That was all that mattered.Ā
He let out a particularly pathetic whine when you pulled away from the kiss - using your grip on his hair to yank him away from your lips, though he did lean in desperately and chase you like you were the only source of oxygen in the tiny, quickly heating room. His lips were now slightly swollen and so perfectly wet with your spit, and he couldnāt resist the urge to dip his tongue out and lick it off, tasting a bit of his own blood that you had drawn from your biting.Ā
It was nothing like he had imagined a first kiss with you would be - but fuck, it was so damn perfect.Ā
He thought that would be the end of it. He thought you would push him away and tell him to fuck off back to his own house with the boots. That you would tell him not to die in a hushed, angry voice. And for sure, that would be the last he ever saw of you, whether he won or lost.Ā
He was a little more than shocked when you heaved yourself up to sit on the edge of the work bench and spread your knees wide, as if inviting him to come further between them - inviting him to get closer to you.Ā
āCome on, Garraty.ā You said, your voice impatient, irritated.Ā
You didnāt wait for him to move before you reached out and weaved two fingers behind his belt buckle, yanking him forcefully closer in a way that made him grunt. You were always stronger than he remembered, and he was tingling with lust and weak to you, so that definitely helped.Ā
āIf youāre so determined to go out there and have your brains blown out, I get to have you now. I get to have this.ā You said it in a dull, disappointed voice - like having sex with him wasnāt even something you wanted to do. (He didnāt realize that you were once again holding back tears at the thought of him being killed, trying to enjoy the time you still had with him.)Ā
āThought you said that you āwerenāt that girlā?ā He replied, relaying your earlier words back to you. He knew it was dumb, almost like he was trying to talk you out of it. But he wanted you to be sure. He didnāt want you to regret this, even if he didnāt live to see that regret.Ā
āWell, youāre the asshole who kissed me first.ā You argued, giving him a sharp look. āIāll take your dumb little virginity, and I guess Iāll have to take the eight by five, too.āĀ
It was the most stripped down version of ātil death do us partā. It was a marriage in few words, a promise that you had always been his, and the horrible thought that you were about to consummate when it was two breaths too late.Ā
You swallowed thickly, holding back tears as you thought about it, your movements stiff and aggressive as you unbuckled Rayās belt. Your words sent a sharp shiver through him and put an ache in his bones, and he couldnāt bring himself to stop you. He wanted it too badly. He wanted you.Ā
āWhy are you so fucking determined for me to die?ā He hissed. āDo you want me dead?āĀ
āNot me - you! Youāre the one who wants to die!ā You argued back. āYouāre the one who signed up.āĀ
You were far too angry for someone with your hands gripping the fabric of his jeans, shoving them down over his hips. Your nails left stinging marks down across the tender skin of his ass from the aggressive nature of your movements, causing a sharp hiss from the back of his throat as his cock bobbed in the air - too hard and ready for the situation, too eager for the conversation the two of you were having.Ā
āI donāt wanna die.ā He replied, his voice dull.Ā
But any logic or better argument died off in his brain as you reached for your own button, ripping at the fly of your jeans, and his eyes became glued to this spot.Ā
āYou couldāve fooled me.ā You huffed back bitterly. āWe could have been happy, Ray. But you chose this.āĀ
Was that true? Was that true at all?Ā
Should he have proposed to you instead of letting your brother go off to The Walk? Should have crawled to you on his knees, begging to be your idiot husband with nothing more to offer than his dumb, full heart and his good intentions?Ā
āFuck-ā He hissed out, his eyes squeezing shut and his mind going blank as you got a grip on his cock, pumping him in tight, vicious strokes - nothing gentle or sweet about it. You were handling him like you owned him, like you had every right to his body and you were more than upset that he was wasting on The Long Walk without your consent.Ā
Your pants were hanging off one ankle now, your legs spreading wider for him as you hooked an ankle around the back of his thigh and forced him forward. He could already feel the heat coming off you and it made him even dizzier.Ā
It was too late for any of that now. It was too late for regrets and āwhat ifās. Now, all the two of you had was this moment, temporary as the cigarette smoke swirling up from the porch and disappearing into the night sky that you once admired with hope in your eyes. All he had was the roughness of your grip and the burning heat he could feel coming from between your thighs, as vengeful and all consuming as the bite of the angry words you had been hurdling at him all evening.Ā
He surged forward and kissed you again, needing to pretend at least that this was about love and sweetness and not some tragic goodbye, indulging in the feeling of your soft lips. Your hand on his hip pushed him forward until the tip of his cock brushed right against your wetness, a gaping wound just as sensitive as your heart, far too ready to let him in, far too ready to be carved out and broken by him.Ā
But of course - just then, the patrol truck drove by again. Driving back up the street in the opposite direction on their way out of the neighbourhood. The loud grind of tires against the unpaved gravel road, the blinding spotlight flashing by. Both of you were safely out of view, but still - Rayās whole body stiffened up and he found himself holding his breath for the creeping, terribly slow moments until they passed.Ā
It was one last chance for both of you to change your minds.Ā
But no - not really. Either way, tomorrow he still had to leave. Tomorrow he would still have to set out on a journey from which he might never return. He might never see you again. He highly doubted that you would wait on the sidelines to see him, even if you were allowed to. He doubted that you would even watch him on TV. After what had happened with your brother, he knew you couldnāt handle building up that hope again just to have it come crashing down. Maybe that was why it was easier for you to think of him as a dead man the second that you knew he signed up for The Walk.
And if you wanted to fuck a dead man, then he would let you.Ā
So he shoved his hips forward with certainty and in a second, he became sluggish and dumb at the feeling of your heat and wetness enveloping him, already an intense and overwhelming feeling. It was just the tip of his cock, and he found himself stuttering and still, his whole body already lulling into a stupid ragdoll. But you put your hand tightly on one of his asscheeks, digging your nails in and pushing, forcing him forward in one abrupt movement - something that knocked the wind out of him as his stomach muscles tensed.Ā
You were so hot, so tight around him, so perfect -Ā
āOh, fuck.ā He groaned, shoving his face into your neck instinctively, his whole body becoming alight with an intense fire as he was consumed by that heat, swallowed up by that tightness for the first time.Ā
You didnāt have as much of a reaction as he would have expected - a sharp inhale of breath, your body tensing slightly, your hips angling toward him. It was nothing like the loud, girlish moans that guys he hung out with claimed their girlfriends let out. It wasnāt the kind of sounds that would disturb neighbours and āget them caughtā by their parents, meaning that they would have to sneak around to have sex.Ā
For a moment, Ray wondered if he was doing something wrong.Ā
āCome on, fuck me.ā You told him, your voice turning into an unforgiving hiss.Ā
You gave his ass an abrupt slap, like he was some kind of plough horse on a farm that needed encouraging. It was a move that sent a sharp sting across his skin, easily confusing him, melting somewhere along the inside and only making his cock throb harder inside of you.Ā
Fuck - why did he love it so much when you were so demanding?Ā
āYou wanted this.ā You reminded him, a distinctly nagging tone in your voice.Ā
āJesus, gimme a minute.ā He whined in return, struggling to breathe, wondering how he was able to stay upright on his own two legs right now. Somehow feeling both floating and heavy, feeling like the entire world was balanced on the pinpoint of his swollen, aching cock, the moon somewhere between your breasts pressed up against him and your voice in the stratosphere. āI gotta - fuck.āĀ
Somehow, he managed to move his legs - widening his stance a bit to stabilize himself, keeping one hand on the wood of the bench beside you and putting the other one on your hip, gripping you intensely possessively, his palm already too sweaty. And then, he was off. Spurred purely by instinct and the need to smother himself further in your perfect heat, he pulled himself back only a bit, barely pulling out at all, before he nudged his hips forward again.Ā
And again, and again, only moving a fraction of an inch, barely humping you, absolutely hesitant to pull out of you at all - desperate not to miss this feeling, not to miss you. He was already addicted to the feeling of your pussy, so warm and lively around his cock, and he couldnāt leave it, not for a second.Ā
It wasnāt any useful friction for you. It was barely causing a hum in your gut, definitely wouldnāt drive you to an orgasm.Ā
But still - there was something too precious and too annoying and too damn hot about Ray in these moments. The way he was whining into your neck, the tight scrunch of his expression as he struggled with the newly found pleasure, the way he speared his hard cock into you with such a lack of skill, humping you like you were a lifeless pillow. It was so irritating and it stirred something deep in you because it was so Ray. Nothing performative, nothing fancy - just letting himself feel in front of you because he knew that you werenāt going to judge him for it.Ā
āCome on,ā You told him, your voice slightly breathy now, so far the only evidence that he was having any real effect on you - aside from the slickness smearing over his cock. āCome on, you can do better than that.āĀ
The encouragement made him dizzy, your voice grating against him in a way that was so memorable and cut right to his core. That along with your hands on his hips, gripping at the fat of his love handles, touching him so possessively rather than avoiding touching his body, embracing him like you loved him, like he couldnāt be more perfect. Your nails dug into his flesh, causing another sting that zapped right through him, and you used that grip to pull him back just a bit further before you slammed his hips into your pussy with more heft, more force.Ā
āCome on, do it right.ā You said it almost bitterly, like you were annoyed with him - but he was too pussy drunk to be embarrassed or find himself inadequate.Ā
He shoved his face tight into your neck and let out a rippling, whiny moan that he could not contain. It was a sound that you would remember forever - him at his most raw and unfiltered, truly lost in pleasure because of you. He began to speed up his thrusts, almost like he couldnāt control it, like you had shown him how good fucking actually felt, as opposed to having his cock just seated deep inside of you like he was foolishly trying to make a home there.Ā
He slapped his hips against your faster, like an eager jackrabbit. Like a man possessed, driven by the swelling need in his gut, driven by the need to be close to you, he needed more.Ā
āDo something right for once.ā You huffed out, a bitter edge on your voice once again.Ā
Those words stung. He felt your anger back now, so truly tuned into you. He lifted his head up to meet your eyes, surprised to see that you were looking back at him with a unique shine of sadness and bitter anger.Ā
āDonāt fucking start again-ā He grunted out, his hips still slamming into yours, heavy breaths panting against your chin.Ā
āNo.ā You said, reaching up and roughly grabbing his jaw, holding his face tightly to your own, forcing him to look into your eyes, forcing him to hear you. āNo - you donāt get to decide. You donāt get to tell me I can be angry.āĀ
āY/N-ā He breathed out, and you abruptly cut him off by digging your nails into his cheeks, silencing him with a moan as more confusing sparks roused through him.Ā
You then wrapped your legs securely around his waist, trapping him in a vice, forcing him still, stopping his thrusts as his cock gave a pathetic throb of protest. You forced him so tightly against your body, his cock deep inside you, nested and still once again. You locked him there, trapped, showing how much power you truly had over him.Ā
He choked off a wounded sound in the back of his throat while you looked at him with nothing but fire in your eyes, your hand migrating further down his neck, leaving small stinging marks on his cheeks. You gripped onto the thickness of his neck, squeezing oh-so-slightly, threatening his life again, just barely, and stopping him from speaking any further while you made him oh-so-dizzy as oxygen became scarce in his brain.Ā
āYouāre mine.āĀ
You said it with such fitful passion swelling up in your voice, sounding on the verge of tears.
Iām yours.Ā
Ray thought the words, tried to say them, and it came out as nothing more than a choked off syllable. But you knew - it was so clear in his eyes. You knew.Ā
Ray didnāt ever know that he would be so lucky to have your hand around his throat, but he didnāt know if he could feel complete without it now. Especially because he could feel the words shaking through his cock - he could feel the true passion of your declaration vibrating on every inch of his cock.Ā
āYou donāt get to tell me that Iām too pissy, or too upset when youāre supposed to be mine. This life is supposed to be mine, supposed to be ours-ā You gave his neck a gentle squeeze, choking on your words as your tears welled up, so intensely emotional. The action caused his blood flow to stutter, causing an unexpected zap of pleasure through him that made his hips flail against you while he let out another groan. ā-and you went and sold it off without even asking me first.āĀ
āIām sorry.ā Ray wheezed out.Ā
You released his throat, smoothing your hand down his chest, the touch lingering too sweetly near his heart.Ā
āShut up. And finish fucking me before I change my mind.ā You told him, mourning creeping into your voice as you loosened your legs around his hips.Ā
You gave a few harsh blinks, trying to stave off tears. He didnāt move away, instead leaning in and brushing his forehead along your cheek in silent comfort. You nudged against the softness of his lower back with the hard edge of your sneaker, encouraging him to pump his hips into your warm, wet cunt once again to continue chasing his orgasm. It was almost difficult at this point; his mind so lustful and sad, so cloudy and regretful.
He didnāt know how he was going to leave you after this.Ā
āIām sorry.ā He whimpered, collapsing down to press his forehead against your breast. Those taunting words - FUCK THE MAJOR - scrawled by you, now so close by, and barely readable in the dark. āIām sorry, Iām sorry, fuck - Iām sorry.āĀ
āGod, youāre so pathetic.ā You hissed back, he was almost sure that the shine of tears was rougher in your voice, more clear now.Ā
He wasnāt sure why those words made his cock throb harder. But it made him fuck into you with more vigor, igniting the space with thicker sounds of flesh on flesh as his pelvis smacked into your cunt with raw, pure madness, his cock filling you in a blur again and again. Maybe it was because anything coming from you sounded like a compliment, or because him being so pathetic got him into this position - between your thighs, basking in your perfection.Ā
So him being pathetic had to be a good thing.Ā
āI know.ā He murmured back, tucking his head tightly into your neck and leaving a small kiss there.Ā
āI canāt - I canāt fucking believe Iām in love with you.āĀ
These words hit Ray like a ton of bricks.Ā
You were in love with him.Ā
Not just the sweet love you shared as kids. Not, it was clear now - it was the devastating kind of marriageable āin loveā - the kind that meant this was all truly such a big mistake.Ā
Ray had fucked up. Big time.Ā
āFuck, Iām sorry.ā He choked out again, finding himself crying now, thick tears leaking down his face. āIām sorry, Iām so sorry-āĀ
He had signed a death warrant. He had made sure you would lose the last man in your life who truly cared about you.Ā
It was all his fault.Ā
You grabbed him by the hair, using a tight grip to yank his head back. It was a tight spike of pain that somehow sent another jolt of pleasure through his cock, making his hips hump against you with absolutely no rhythm now, entirely sloppy and desperate. He was getting so close to the edge.Ā
āYou have to look at me.ā You huffed. āYou have to fucking look at me - look me in the eyes while youāre ruining my fucking life. Look at me while you break my heart, Garraty.āĀ
A horrible bolt of guilt struck him like a spear through the chest, and he rushed to pull out, especially knowing how close he was. He couldnāt go through with this - fuck, this was so stupid. How much of an idiot was he? What if he got you pregnant and left you with a bastard?Ā
He wheezed and flailed but you trapped him tightly with your legs once again and his jaw fell open wide in a horrible moan as you clenched your cunt down on him and squeezed.Ā
āCum for me, Ray.āĀ
āFuck - ah, fuck.ā He huffed out. And before he could control himself, he said the fatal words in return. āFuck - I love you. I love you so much.āĀ
You used that grip on his hair to rip his head back farther, over-extending his neck in a slightly uncomfortable way, and Ray let out a yelp when you dug your teeth into his neck, forcing a fierce claiming bite onto him. If he was going to die within the next few days, he was going to die marked as yours. It wouldnāt be until later that he would find blood dripping down his skin and know how just wild you were with this, how utterly mad you had gone.Ā
But soon you went sweet again, finally going soft on him for the first time that night. You grabbed his face roughly by both cheeks and pulled him into a kiss as he moaned loudly and flailed against you, his body so overtaken by pleasure, his veins roaring with electricity as he came inside you. He knew he should have tried harder to pull out, he knew he shouldnāt have been enjoying this - but fuck, he shouldnāt help but to savour your warmth while he could when death was so close to biting at his back.Ā
He hated that he felt the slickness of your tears against his cheeks as the fog in his brain began to clear. His cock was barely starting to soften, his skin still buzzing, and he was already mopping up your grief and trying to store it away like he had so many other times before.Ā
He had to do something. He had to better apologize.Ā
He had ruined your life, and he knew he couldnāt even begin to make up for that - but he knew he had to try.Ā
Without much further thought, Ray pulled out of you, pulling his briefs back up over his now very wet cock (causing the fabric to stick to his skin in an uncomfortable way). And then he dropped to his knees in front of you.Ā
āRay-āĀ
āYour turn to shut up now.ā He huffed, a lazy demand that only had you listening because you wanted to. Because you were too curious to see how he would proceed.Ā
His breath came out in cooling puffs against the slickness of your used cunt as he put both hands on both your thighs, bracketing them from the outside. He grabbed you with such gentle intensity, like he truly loved you, like you were something to treasure. He silently encouraged you to scoot closer - and with a gentle placement of those thighs on the broadness of his shoulders, he dove in, clumsy and inexperienced and messy and oh-so-in love, trying his hardest not to think about the fact that this first time might be the last that he would get to taste you.Ā
If anything, he tried to enjoy it more because of that.Ā
He tried not to be timid, tried not to think about the fact that he might be āgrossā or that he might scare you away with the depth of his desire. He tried not to shove that desire down, so eager because of how much time he had thought about this with a hand on his cock. (Especially since he had heard other guys talk about it, since he had found out that guys did put their mouth on a girlās cunt and immediately wondered what yours tasted like.)Ā
He shoved his head into your pussy without hesitation, enjoying the oddly soft feeling of the wet flesh pressing against his face, like laying himself against an open wound - hot, incredibly warm, raw, exposed flesh. So intimate, so fucking close to your insides, close enough that he could feel your heartbeat against his cheeks, he could feel the flutters of your breath against his tongue as you made small, pretty gasps for breath.Ā
He didnāt hesitate to reach out and lap like a greedy dog. He tasted the musk of you and the salty tang of himself and he felt a streak of pride that he had marked you here, too stubborn to think about the fact that this would fade. He couldnāt let himself think that he would die soon and you would move on, that you would be fucked by other men after you had forgotten him, while his eight by five box sat on your mantel and you had long forgotten about a friend you once called Raymond Garraty.Ā
He tried to spite it. Tried to spite time, the future, his own death chasing him that he had willingly signed up for. He had to spite all of it while he was still allowed to have your perfect taste on his tongue, your beautiful thighs bracketing his head, shutting out the horrible world.Ā
He shoved his tongue deep inside your cunt, trying to make a home for himself there while his nose bounced on your thrumming clit, smothering himself in you. He let out unashamed moans into your flesh while he lapped, and lapped, and lapped up the mess he had made of you, torn between leaving clear evidence between your thighs of his presence or stealing it all back for himself. Wanting to sucking up the taste and the memories and keep it all because he needed it more right now.Ā
He hated it, but he couldnāt entirely tell if you were enjoying it.Ā
Your body was shaking and you were making some sounds - but with your thick breaths and the tears pouring down your face and the mourning in your lungs, it was difficult to tell if your cries were from anguish or pleasure. He sucked hard on your clit, and when you came, it wasnāt on his radar. It was a gentle orgasm that rolled through the pit of your stomach, and it barely mattered to you. You didnāt care if you came - an orgasm would only last moments, and you needed Ray for a lifetime. Your chest was aching and you could barely stand the sight of that red hair between your thighs any longer. It was something you knew that you would never get to have again, you would miss it too damn much. So you put a firm hand on the collar of his shirt and yanked him back up.Ā
You kissed him hard on the mouth, not minding your own taste.Ā
āYouāre such a fucking asshole.ā You cried gently against his lips.Ā
Ray wasnāt surprised when you broke down into sobs. He wanted to ask if he had done something wrong, but he likely already knew the answer. This wasnāt about the sex, it was about what was to follow. It was about The Long Walk. So - just as he had done on that day your brother passed through town, nothing more than a shambling ghost, he held you close to his chest while you cried.Ā
It felt like the two of you stayed in that position for hours, but logically, Ray knew that it wasnāt more than a few minutes. He just hated the sound of your cries, he knew that it made time pass slower for him. When the sounds dissolved off into silence, he felt the need to bring up something of interest to him - a large bottle he had spotted on a shelf above your head.Ā
āWhatās this?ā He asked, grabbing the bottle and pulling it out.Ā
He was surprised to see that it was a very large, very fancy looking bottle of Scotch. It was marked as being made in Kentucky and from the looks of the wax on the top and the gold on the label - it must have been worth more than everything in the shed combined.Ā
āThat was my brotherās.ā You told him, still tearful. āOne of the military guys gave it to him before his Walk. He said that they were gonna use it to celebrate after he won.āĀ
The words came out as a cruel, heavy taunt, and Ray felt too heavy himself as you said it.Ā
āI had forgotten about it, honestly.ā You added on with a sniffle. āIf I had remembered it was here, I probably would have traded it for something. I could have traded it to get you some better fucking gear if you had told me earlier.āĀ
You mumbled the last part, a distant thought spilling from your lips, and Ray didnāt bother arguing back.Ā
You took a glance around, and then grabbed a nearby screwdriver. You gently grabbed the bottle from Ray and used the tool to chip off the wax, and then unscrewed the bottle. You put it to your lips and took a long swig, and after you swallowed, you let out a bitter laugh.Ā
āI guess the expensive shit actually is better.āĀ
You extended the bottle out to Ray, offering him some, and he shook his head, taking a gentle step back. He finally pulled his pants up, trying to right himself. He knew that sadly he couldnāt stay in this little bubble with you forever. He would have to meet the harsh reality that was coming for him.Ā
āI need to be in good shape tomorrow. I think the only thing worse than a long fucking walk across Maine in the heat would be - a long fucking walk across Maine in the heat while hungover.ā He pointed out honestly.Ā
You nodded.Ā
āDonāt forget to drink water.ā You told him, taking another swig of the Scotch. āThey refill your canteen, and thereās no limit on canteens - so donāt hesitate. You shed way more water than you think while sweating, so donāt just drink when youāre thirsty. And donāt get all shy about whipping your dick out to piss. Nature is nature out there, nobody gives a fuck.āĀ
Ray nodded, surprised that you were now eagerly giving him tips - rallying for him to survive. But he would take all the help he could get. And he knew that your tips were more than well informed with how many times you had watched The Long Walk on TV in the past (mandated by your father when he had worked for the military) and how many times you had read through the handbook before your brother left.Ā
āAnd bring a rag or something with you - something to wipe sweat off your face. And you can dump water onto it and dab it on your skin so you donāt get too hot. If your head gets too hot, out in the sun for too long, youāll cook like an egg and get stupid and then youāll wander right off the road. But donāt dump water right on your head, because if your clothes donāt get dry by dark, youāll freeze.āĀ
Ray nodded, doing his best to take in the information and retain it - knowing that if he was smart when it came to books, you were way smarter with this stuff.Ā
You took another large chug of the drink, and he wanted to say something about it. He wanted to take it from you.Ā
āYouāll need a hat. You got a hat?āĀ
He shook his head in the negative. āI donāt think so.āĀ
You let out a sigh and put the bottle on the bench before you hopped down, stumbling slightly, causing Ray to instinctively catch you. You shoved him away, rejecting the care as it caused a sting through your insides. But you didnāt say anything as you put both your legs back in your pants and pulled them up, not yet zipping them before you went back into the boxes. It was a quick moment this time before you turned around with a military green bucket hat that had a string across the bottom, and you reached over and shoved it onto his head.Ā
You titled your head, inspecting him.Ā
āGod, you look so stupid.ā You sighed fondly.Ā
āJee, thanks.ā Ray rolled his eyes and took the hat down, letting it dangle by the string from his neck.Ā
āBut itāll keep you from getting cooked in the sun.ā You remarked. āYou fair-skinned princess.āĀ
āIām not a princess!ā Ray argued, obviously playful, and the two of you burst into bright laughter.Ā
He hated how easy it was to laugh with you right now.Ā
The laughter dissolved off as you reached up - so gentle, so caring, running your fingers through Rayās hair, pushing it out of his face. Your expression became so terribly haunted and hurt as you stared at his forehead - stared right at the spot where a bullet would burst through if he got his ticket, and your thumb brushed over the skin there. Like you were checking to see if this was still real - like you were checking to make sure that his brains were still inside of his skull.Ā
Your throat let out a whimper again - the beginning of a cry, and before Ray could say anything, you turned around and picked up the bottle again, taking another heavy swig.Ā
He had a terrible vision of you turning into your mother - sitting in a chair, clutching his picture in one hand and a bottle in the other. And he didnāt know if he could stop it, but he had to try.Ā
āY/N, stop.ā He said, reaching out and trying to grab the bottle from you.Ā
āWhat?ā You gaped, your mouth dry from the liquid - ironic. You backed up, snatching yourself away from him, defensive. āYou have to leave tomorrow. I might as well get shit faced.āĀ
āPlease. Donāt.āĀ
With the intense pleading in his eyes, it was far too easy to let him take the bottle from you on his second try. He capped it and put it far back on the bench, like he was dismantling a bomb in uneasy movements that was still far too likely to explode.Ā
āHere,ā He said, reaching to his wrist and beginning to unbuckle his watch. āTake this.āĀ
āRay, I donāt want your dadās-āĀ
āTake it.ā He insisted, reaching for your wrist and beginning to fasten it around. āYou can count the moments until I come home.āĀ
āOr you can keep it safe if I die.āĀ
You were both thinking it. Though you knew that you would give it back to Mrs. Garraty if he died. She deserved to have it more than you did.Ā
āCheesy asshole.ā You muttered quietly, letting him fully secure it around your wrist before you pulled back.Ā
āCan I ask you for something else?ā Ray asked, his voice quiet, somehow nervous all of a sudden.Ā
You wondered if you had any more good gear to give him. You wondered if, overzealously, he might want to have sex again.Ā
āWhat?ā You posed softly in return.Ā
āWill you sleep with me?ā He asked. āIn my bed, I mean. I - I donāt think Iāll be able to sleep for shit tonight if youāre not there with me.āĀ
It put a terrible ache in your chest.Ā
It wouldnāt be the first time the two of you slept in the same bed together. Itās not like his mother or yours ever directly approved of inter-gender sleepovers, but the two of you never directly asked either. Sometimes you and Ray stayed up all night talking and ended up falling asleep in close proximity. Sometimes he fell asleep on your floor while you slept on the bed, promising every five minutes that he would āgo home soonā. Sometimes the two of you made forts out of sheets and stayed in there all night together, bothering each other to stay awake and not sleeping a wink at all.Ā
After your brother died, you said goodnight and went to your own house and then crawled into his bed after midnight every single night for over three months. Every single time, Ray didnāt question it. He just rubbed your back through the cries - he stayed quiet when you wanted, cuddled when you wanted, laid with his back to yours when you wanted. And sometimes, he talked with you about your brother - as though he were still a living, breathing person about to come home, when you wanted that too.Ā
āYeah.ā You told him.Ā
You knew that you had to tuck him into bed and get him sleeping soon to give him a better chance for the morning, but one more thing was bothering you. You shed off the horrible, cheesy shirt you had made, knowing that he was ultimately right about it. Not that you would ever say those words aloud. You ignored the way Rayās eyes became glued to your bare breasts in the process, and you dug through the boxes once again, grabbing a shirt that had belonged to your father - a large, loose, comfortable flannel shirt. You did up your jeans properly and buttoned up the shirt, hating the way that Ray was looking at you - like you were beautiful, like you were perfect.Ā
Like you were someone not worth leaving.Ā
āGo.ā You told him, giving him a gentle nudge toward the mouth of the shed.Ā
Ray did a double take after he opened the door, but the military truck was long gone. It was a once nightly patrol to assure people of a military presence in the neighborhood, not a true constant surveillance to make sure that people never did anything wrong. The threat of that surveillance was most often enough to deter people from breaking the rules.Ā
Ray then led you across back to his house, and when he opened the front door, his mother was quick to put out a cigarette she had been smoking down the sink, foolishly trying to wave the residual smoke out the open kitchen window.Ā
āI - I was just waiting up for you.ā She said, crossing her arms over her chest, trying not to seem caught.Ā
You hated how red her eyes were - obviously she too had been crying over the idea of Ray going off to die.Ā
You closed the door behind the two of you, signifying that you were staying instead of just seeing him in.Ā
āSorry Iām so late.ā He told her. āY/N was - she was just getting me some gear for tomorrow.āĀ
He said, taking off the hat and putting it on a nearby coat hook, waving the evidence around so she wouldnāt further ask questions. Ginnie eyed the large bite mark on Rayās neck, but said nothing about it.Ā
āSheās letting me borrow her dadās old boots.ā Ray added on.Ā
Ginnie looked shocked at this, knowing how protective you were over even the mention of your father. She stared at you with wide eyes as Ray unlaced the boots and kicked them off to the side.Ā
āāBorrowā is the wrong word.ā You told him, kicking off your own shoes and stepping around him. āI donāt want them back after your nasty, smelly feet have been in them for five or six days.āĀ
āSix days?ā Ray groaned as he stumbled into the house. Then, curiously, he asked: āWhat was the longest walk?āĀ
He knew it sounded dumb, but he also knew that you would get his point.Ā
āSeven days.ā You said. āThey went over 500 miles and ended up in New Hampshire. But they found out the winner was on Adderall after he had a heart attack a few hours after finishing - and thatās when they banned substances.āĀ
āWhatās Adderall?ā Ray asked, having never heard of it before.Ā
āNot important.ā You sighed. āTime for bed.āĀ
You shoved him toward the stairs, and he swerved around back toward his mom. He hugged her tightly, mumbling āgoodnightsā and āI love youās as she gave him a kiss on the cheek. You felt a strange pang of jealousy - seeing as the parent who had truly loved you was dead, the person who had taken care of you after that was dead, and your mother had never really been like that with you.Ā
After a while, Ray hesitantly separated from his mother, and moved up the stairs with you following behind him. You heard a squeak as Ginnie tried to conceal her sobs, and you knew that her turning on the kitchen faucet was an attempt to hide the sound of her crying from Ray.Ā
The moment he got into his bedroom, Ray stripped down into his underwear and fell into bed, kicking the unmade covers underneath him until he could tuck his feet in, not bothering to cover up all the way.Ā
āDo you want some PJs?ā He asked. āI still think I have something of yours from when-āĀ
āI really donāt think Iām gonna sleep.ā You said, moving to sit on the edge of the bed beside him, still fully dressed. Though, to fulfill his request, you did lay down beside him. He put a greedy arm around your waist, pulling you close while you stared up at the ceiling. āI just want you to sleep.āĀ
Ray tucked his head into your neck, and after a few moments of slow, calm breathing, you were surprised when he spoke again.Ā
āYou wanna know why I signed up?āĀ
āPlease,ā You sighed gently, too tired to take up another argument. āDonāt.āĀ
āWhen my father died, it made me realize that we canāt go on with the world being the way it is.ā Ray told you, his words quiet, careful, passionate. āThis world just takes people from us. My father, your father, your brother. And I realized that in order to make this world safer for you, I need to change it.āĀ
You swallowed around your tight throat, forcing yourself not to cry again. You reached out and squeezed his arm around your waist. You wanted to claw at him again, desperate to hold onto him.
āYeah but - I donāt want them to take you too.āĀ
Ray didnāt say anything else. He knew you were right. But it was too late now.Ā
And surprisingly, in the terrible silence that followed - he was able to fall asleep.Ā
ā¦Ā
When Rayās mother ripped open the curtains of his bedroom the next morning, letting in those first warm bits of the early morning sunrise, you were gone. But he couldnāt be too surprised by that fact. He had to guess that you would rather run off to work then be there to see him off to what you thought had to be his certain death.Ā
His mother was tearful and jumpier than usual, and the conversation between them was sparse. Of course, he couldnāt have guessed how she would react to something like this. She urged him to back out, and just like you, he had to remind her that the back-out date no longer applied to the morning of The Walk.Ā
His fate was sealed now.Ā
When she handed him the carefully wrapped handful of oatmeal raisin cookies that she had made during the night when she couldnāt sleep, he couldnāt help but to wish that he could share them with you.Ā
ā¦Ā
He ended up sharing them with Pete, Hank, and Art.Ā
It felt strange making friends on The Long Walk, but now Ray suddenly understood why your brother had spent so much of the broadcast smiling - so much of it laughing and joking with the people around him, even though they were all bound to die. There was an inherent brotherhood in that impending death, and it was all too easy to forget about it when the people beside you were telling stupid jokes. It was too easy to simply look forward and march.Ā
Under the hot sun, it was nice to have the distraction of the current conversation at hand.Ā
āNo, true love is for assholes.ā Hank sighed, shaking his head. āOnly three things in life are for certain - a good meal, a good shit, and a good screw. The rest is all bullshit made up to sell romance novels to lonely old white ladies.āĀ
āDonāt be so cynical, man.ā Pete sighed, shaking his head.Ā
āTrue love is real.ā Art argued, giving a smile that made his words seem too easy to believe. āSoulmates are real. There is someone for everyone out there in the world.āĀ
Hankās face twisted, but with him looking forward with such intense determination, none of the other Musketeers saw the guilt streaking through his eyes.Ā
āSo what, you got a girl?ā Pete asked Art, wondering why he was so determined on the topic.Ā
āNah.ā Art shrugged. āStill havenāt met my special someone yet. But sheās out there. I know it.āĀ
Ray wanted to point out that he would never meet that girl who was fated for him if he died on this desolate road, but he couldnāt bear to be the one to wipe that smile off Artās face.Ā
āWhat about you, Ray?ā Pete asked, turning to the boy beside him. āYou believe in true love?āĀ
Ray had a stern frown etched deep onto his face under the shade of the wide brim of his hat. Shade that had only been provided thanks to you. He had come to realize quickly that you were right - it would have been so easy for his head to cook in the sun like an egg. Walking as a concept seemed so easy, but it was already so brutal out here.Ā
āI think, for once, Iām more inclined to agree with Olson.ā Ray said, nodding toward the shorter guy trailing ahead of them slightly. āTrue love is for assholes.āĀ
Of course, he was thinking of you. He couldnāt stop thinking about the night before - you slapping him in the face, twice, and then wanting to have sex. Your taste on his tongue, your proclamation of regretting being in love with him, but you still giving him tips and gear that might help him win The Long Walk. You agreeing to lay down with him so that he slept better, and yet, sneaking away while he slept. It was all horrendous and confusing - and he was going to die with that horrible streak of pain in his chest, thinking about you.Ā
He was an asshole who truly loved you.Ā
āSo you donāt got a girl?ā Pete prodded, nudging an elbow gently into Rayās side. āNobody gonna be watinā for you in Freeport aside from your Mom?āĀ
āNo, I donāt.ā Ray said, hoping to shut the conversation down. āI definitely donāt have a girl.āĀ
āReally?ā Hank replied, his tone mocking. āCause that giant fuckinā hickey on your neck says otherwise.āĀ
Rayās eyes fell to his swiftly moving feet, shame easily readable on his whole body. In the lulling dread of the morning, he had forgotten about that. The obnoxious large mark was right on the edge of the shirt he was wearing, the fresh bite being irritated by the movement of his shirt as it shifted around while he walked. He didnāt think it was that noticeable, but apparently the harsh mark that was quickly blooming into a bright bruise on his fair skin was more than enough of an eyesore to interest the other guys, especially when the road was so desolate and the smallest bit of gossip intrigued them.Ā
Pete had wanted to ask about it directly, but felt too polite to.Ā
(It was why Hank had rushed to take off his wedding ring when the first dozen guys had reamed him out for being stupid enough to join The Walk while being married. It was why he was now loudly harping on true love not being real while thinking about his beautiful, beloved Clementine the whole time - the love he was racing to get back to.)Ā
Ray reached to his neck, as if he could wipe the mark off, the other three laughed at the embarrassed expression on his face, Hank nearly doubling over with his joyous amusement and stumbling in front of them for a moment.Ā
āWarning, Warning 46! First Warning!āĀ
Ray grabbed him by the backpack and made sure he was stable on the road before he let go.Ā
āJesus, laugh your fuckinā ass off, why donāt you?ā He griped sarcastically.Ā
Ray rolled his eyes. He truly didnāt think it was that funny.Ā
āNo, itās just funny.ā Hank replied, grinning over his shoulder at Ray. āYou have an accident with the fuckinā vacuum cleaner or somethinā? Since youāre so intent that you donāt got a girl.āĀ
āYou run into a vampire?ā Art added on, smirking at him.Ā
All three pairs of eyes looked at him expectantly, Pete biting his lip to avoid piling onto the jokes and making Ray feel worse. Ray hated that he couldnāt come up with a good lie.Ā
āI had a girl.ā Ray shrugged.Ā
āThere it is,ā Hank said, pointing a finger at Ray accusingly.Ā
āOuch.ā Art hissed, shaking his head.Ā
āYou have run across that which vexes all men,ā Pete said, nodding understandingly, using his usual poetic wording.Ā
āMoney?ā Hank posed, sounding genuinely confused. āThe Long Walk?ā He tried again.Ā
āThe inherent dichotomy of good and evil?ā Art said, nodding contently as though this were the most obvious answer.Ā
āA girl, idiots.ā Stebbins chimed in harshly, shaking his head at their stupidity, causing them to realize that he had been listening the whole time. āThe thing which vexes all men is women.āĀ
The four boys stared back at him with tensely confused looks, and were only distracted away from this by another comment from the peanut gallery.Ā
āNot if youāre a fuckinā homo.ā Barkovitch added on easily with a shrug. āTheyāre the only ones who donāt get pissed off by chasinā women.āĀ
āYou know Iām starting to think that youāre the queer with the way you fuckinā talk about it.ā Ray told him with a sharp glare.Ā
āShut the fuck up!ā He bit back. āYouāre the one buddyinā up with all these fuckinā queers!āĀ
He shook his head, glarinā at them, and purposefully sped up ahead of them. At least it was nice to be rid of him for a while.Ā
Pete sighed and shook his head.Ā
āThat is my point, though.ā Pete told Ray.Ā
āIām not queer.ā Ray replied, his voice drifting quiet. He had just explained that the hickey was from a girl. Did Pete not believe him?Ā
āNo,ā Pete chuckled, smiling. āYouāre vexed. By a woman.ā He explained. āYou seem real torn up about whatever happened with your girl.āĀ
āSheās not my girl.ā Ray sighed, putting his hands on his head in defeat, the words scraping the inside of his throat, grinding with a combination of regret and frustration. āNot anymore.ā He added this last part quietly, stewing in all the horrible emotions.Ā
āWhat happened?ā Pete said, wrapping an arm gently around Rayās shoulders, urging him on. āCome on, you can tell me.āĀ
āYeah, Iām bored.ā Hank egged him on. āI wanna hear your little sob story.āĀ
āYouāre lucky I donāt have any rocks in my pocket.ā Ray hissed at Hank, tearing out of Peteās grip and moving toward Hank - until he was yanked back by Pete. Hank let out another chuckle.Ā
āBe nice.ā Art told them both with a smile. āWeāre all friends, remember?āĀ
There were a few more moments of nothing but the sounds of the loud grinding treads on the tanks and their footsteps heavy on the pavement. When Ray looked over at Pete, he saw nothing but honesty and understanding in that smile. He might as well die with the weight lifted off his soul. Hell, if Pete won and Ray didnāt - maybe he could find you and tell you that he still loved you after all.Ā
āShe lived next door to me for years and she was my best friend in the whole world,ā Ray began, finding the words easier after he started.Ā
āAnd now I have taken on that title, of course.ā Pete grinned at him.Ā
Ray let out an easy laugh and rolled his eyes, and Pete let out a laugh in return.Ā
āAnd when she found out I was doing The Walk, she went nuts.ā Ray explained.Ā
He wasnāt sure why - but he had expected you to take it better. Perhaps it was because you had seen your brother off with a hug and a few tears in your eyes. But you had cheered him on, so sure that he would win. Why didnāt you believe in Ray that same way?Ā
āWhat the fuck did you expect?ā Hank replied. āGirls arenāt usually turned on by the whole death march thing.āĀ
āSometimes they are.ā Ray shrugged.Ā
āOh, so she really gave you somethinā to remember.ā Pete reasoned, wiggling his brows in a way that made Ray look to the ground once again as his face flushed with embarrassment. āBut why donāt you think sheāll be waitinā for you in Freeport?āĀ Ā
āI fucked it all up.ā Ray reasoned, purposefully being vague.Ā
He couldnāt tell them about his plans to kill The Major. He wasnāt sure if he would at all. He might not even tell Pete, who seemed perfectly trustworthy and able to keep the secret. Pete might even help him if asked.Ā
āIt seemed like a pity fuck, more than anything.ā Ray continued. āShe thinks Iām gonna die out here. She doesnāt actually think I can win. Sheās probably not gonna be in Freeport because she doesnāt think Iām gonna make it there.āĀ
Stebbins let out a snort of laughter, and Ray really wished he had picked up some rocks before they started. It would have been so worth getting a warning to see the guy sporting a black eye.Ā
āYou never know.ā Pete told him, a shine of loving hope in his eyes. āShe probably loves you more than you think. Sheās probably just afraid to see you die, is all.āĀ
āNah.ā Ray said, shaking his head. āShe hates my fuckinā guts.āĀ
ā¦Ā
When the sun started to set, Ray swore he saw you. Standing just off the road, under a tree - he swore he saw you past one of the tanks, past the crowd of heads. He swore he saw you, just standing there.Ā
And when he got a good, proper look at you, locked eyes with you, nearly crying at the sight of your face in the evening light. He blinked, tried to clear his eyes, squinting his eyes past the bright orange power of the setting sun - and then you were gone.Ā
āYou good, Ray?ā Pete asked, noticing the entirely spooked look on his friendās face.Ā
āYeah.ā Ray lied. āYeah, Iām good, Pete.āĀ
ā¦Ā
Ray didnāt even realize he had fallen asleep. He didnāt even know it was possible to fall asleep - standing up, walking, keeping pace.Ā
All he knew was that his mind was locked onto you like a hot target now, and he couldnāt stop thinking about you. He couldnāt stop remembering, couldnāt stop regretting.Ā
His mind went back to a night a few months after your brother had died, when you were both sixteen.Ā
The sweet summer air was pouring in through your open bedroom window while Ray lounged on your bed while you were sitting on a chair in front of your small desk, working on something.Ā
He was looking at the loose pages of an old, discontinued beauty magazine that you had spread out there. One of the girls from school had gotten the magazine from someone in the city and sold off the pages, and though it was banned material, you had traded her cigarettes for some of them. At first, it was purely out of interest, and now - you were actually putting it to use.Ā
Ray had thought about taking the pages from you and burning them or destroying them. He hated the idea of you getting caught with something banned, but he hoped at the very least, you were smart enough to hide them or shell them off to someone else when you were done with them.Ā
āWhat do you think?ā You asked, turning to Ray from the small mirror you had nailed to the wall in front of your desk, creating a makeshift vanity.Ā
His stomach caught in his throat. You looked good but you looked so⦠different. You had just finished applying a mixture of vaseline and red Kool-Aid with a cotton swab, making your own makeshift red lipstick as the magazine had instructed. And your eyes were lined with a thick, black outline that swept into a large wing at the side. You were holding that page, so he had no clue what it was made out of.Ā
The closest he had come to seeing you like this before was when you sucked on popsicles, leaving a messy, bright red ring around your lips, or when you sucked on your cinnamon rockets to make them last longer and they stained your mouth. But this was so well done - this was so intentional. He rolled more onto his stomach on your bed to hide the evidence of exactly what this was doing to him, hating how the attraction battled with the deep worry for you that he felt in his gut. He hated the idea of you being mistaken for a working girl and being arrested if you were caught out looking like that.Ā
āYou should take it off.ā He told you, his voice coming out in a strained grunt. āYour mom wonāt like it.āĀ
You let out a laugh - not one jolly or genuinely amused, but a more sad, tortured laugh.Ā
āMy mom doesnāt give a shit about anything anymore.ā You told him, moving toward the bed and sitting on the edge on the opposite side, tossing down the page you were holding among the messy pile. āAll she does is watch that tape of my brother. She wouldnāt care if I ran around outside naked unless it messed with what was happening on that stupid TV.āĀ
Then it clicked - Ray immediately knew what all this was about.Ā
Since your brotherās death, your mother acted like she didnāt have any family left at all. She acted as if her only child had died. And while you claimed that you understood her grief, it was always a sentiment delivered with harsh words such as āI canāt blame her, the good one is goneā. You didnāt think you were good enough to be missed.Ā
And now you were trying to prove it. Playing into the idea that you were āthe bad childā while simultaneously flailing in the net, desperately screaming out for attention without even realizing it.Ā
Ray should have told you that he loved you. He should have told you how good you were. He should have tried harder.Ā
āIs this really what guys want from girls? Huge tits with their ribs sticking out?āĀ
You picked up one of the pages, showing off a cartoonish, hand-drawing image of a woman with ample cleavage and a concave stomach, bent into an odd position to show off these ācurvesā.Ā
Ray wanted to deliver the sentiment that - no, not all guys wanted that. But he chose something else instead.Ā
āGuys want girls who are respectable.ā He said, tearing the page out of your hand and putting it down, trying another effort to get you to take the make-up off.Ā
You let out another horrible, dry laugh.Ā
āNo, guys want whores. Guys like whores.ā You replied, shaking your head.Ā
This made his stomach clench even more. What were you planning on doing?
āI just never understood the idea of wanting to fuck someone whoās basically a bag of bones with tits.ā You said, getting off the bed and going over to your closet. With the door open and blocking Ray from seeing you, you began to change. āI mean maybe itās just me, but if you like big tits, wouldnāt that mean you like big girls in general?āĀ
āI guess.ā Ray sighed, mentally tuned out from the conversation, too fixated on wondering what you were changing into when the dress you were wearing had been perfectly fine.Ā
āI never really understood wanting to fuck skinny people in general. Why would you want to cuddle up next to someone so bony? Maybe Iām just weird, but I like the idea of someone bigger - more cuddly, more to grab onto.āĀ
Your words didnāt even register in Rayās mind at the time, because you shut the closet door then, revealing your new outfit.Ā
You were tying the halter neck of a dress he had never seen you wearing before. But he recognized the fabric as being from one of your old dresses, now butchered up. That was why you had asked to borrow his motherās sewing machine a week ago. It was short - the flowy skirt barely covering your ass, with a plunging back, and a bow behind your neck that led down into a V-neckline that revealed far too much of your chest for his liking.Ā
(Well - itās not that he didnāt like looking at your chest. Itās just that - god, were you planning on going out in public wearing that? Were you planning on letting other people see you like that?)Ā
āHow do I look?ā You prompted, turning to him and striking a pose.Ā
A bunch of words battled in his throat, and luckily, nicer ones were what found their way out.Ā
āYou look beautiful.ā He said firmly. āBut-āĀ
āUgh, donāt.ā You sighed, rolling your eyes. āI donāt have time for Helicopter Ray right now.āĀ
It was what you called him when you accused him of āhoveringā over you. Times when he told you that climbing too high in trees was a bad idea, when he didnāt want you starting fights, when warned you not to poke a literal hornetās nest because you had never seen one before and you got way too curious about it. (That one had ended badly for the both of you).Ā
You grabbed a pair of shoes from your wardrobe - a pair with small heels that he had never seen before, and you opened the window and tossed them out. He wondered why you felt the need to sneak out the window if you claimed that your mother didnāt care.Ā
(Truthfully, you were avoiding catching even a glimpse of your mother on the living room TV.)Ā
āWhere are you going?ā He demanded, pushing up off the bed (lucky that his lower half had calmed down now), putting himself between you and the open window, receiving a glare for this. āItās almost curfew-āĀ
āIāll wait for the stupid truck to pass by.ā You shrugged, trying to force Ray out of your way, receiving firm hands on your shoulders for this.Ā
āWhere are you going?ā He demanded again, his voice tighter, staving off anger and frustration.Ā
He had tried being patient with you since your brotherās death. He had been soft, and sweet. He had put away āHelicopter Rayā for so long, but now⦠he just couldnāt. He was too worried about you now.Ā
āIām going to meet Bobby Dagen.ā You told him, trying to speak quietly in the hopes that he wouldnāt hear you.Ā
āOh my god!ā Ray cried out, turning toward the wall, his whole body folding in shock. āThe worldās biggest asshole? The guy you once made eat his own hair because he called you ugly?āĀ
He turned back to you, his entire face painted with shock, praying that you would tell him it was a big joke.
āI donāt think he actually swallowed.ā You shrugged. āHe asked me out - I was bored, so I said yes.āĀ
Ray felt a vein in his temple throbbing particularly hard. He wanted to yell about how he could have come up with a million things to solve your boredom. He wanted to demand to know if you were doing this just to bother him. Instead, his tongue landed on something else.Ā
āSo, what the hell are you two gonna do on this fabulous date?ā He asked, sarcasm ripping through his voice.Ā
You rolled your eyes.Ā
āHeās gonna take me in his truck for a drive.ā You said. āHe told me heād drive me up to that big tree where they used to hang the thieving miners in the 1800s. You know I like creepy old stuff,āĀ
You had asked Ray to take you to the old Hanging Tree dozens of times since you had moved to town, claiming that it was one of the only interesting things in the old town. And he had refused because it creeped him out. And now that tree would be even more mentally scarring for him because it would force him to imagine you and stupid Bobby Dagen sitting in his truck underneath it, with his dumb, stupid, sloppy lips all over your face, his hands all over you-Ā
You moved toward the window again, and he grabbed you by the arm again.Ā
āYou know your brother would never approve of you going out with that slimeball.ā He said, trying one last ditch effort to appeal to you, trying to get to that soft spot he always knew you had that nobody else believed in.Ā
At this time, these words were the exact wrong ones. The mention of your brother made you develop a harder shell than ever. It made you blow out your spikes like a puffer fish, trying to protect yourself. You gave Ray a harsh glare.Ā
āWell, my brother isnāt here right now to stop me.ā You said. He could see the intense pain in your eyes - the fact that you hated that nobody was around to take care of you now. āBesides - he believed in killing with kindness, right?ā You gave a sharp smirk, throwing those words back in a terrible way.Ā
Before Ray could stop you, you stepped out onto the roof and descended down via the gutter with shocking skill. He wasnāt as light-footed as you and didnāt want to make an idiot of himself by falling, so he had to watch on with intense annoyance as you picked up your shoes off the ground and blew him a kiss.Ā
āDonāt wait up!ā You called out, running off with a giggle.Ā
Ray felt stomach sick.Ā
He paced back and forth in your room, watching as the patrol truck passed, thinking about what he should do. He knew it would be rude to go out there and get you. It would be rude, right? You wanted to be on this date. But you were out past curfew, and if you were caught, you would be ticketed. Or worse - arrested. Especially dressed like thatā¦Ā
What if Bobby tried something with you? What if you couldnāt stop him?Ā
A voice in Rayās head laughed. You of all people didnāt need protecting.Ā
Oh god, what if you killed Bobby?Ā
Ray thought back to a conversation he had with your brother before he left for The Walk.Ā
āTake care of her while Iām gone.āĀ
āOf course. You donāt even have to ask.āĀ
āAnd Ray - if I donāt come back-āĀ
āDonāt even say that, man.āĀ
āBut if I donāt-āĀ
āYou know Iāll always have her. Iāll always take care of her. You donāt have to worry. Just focus on The Walk, man. You got it. Youāll be home in no time.āĀ
At the time, he had genuinely thought about the possibility that your brother might not come home. He had just been trying to reassure him because he was about to embark on something so dangerous. He had made the promise with his whole heart - knowing that he would take care of you because he loved you.Ā
He had to be the one taking care of you now.Ā
And that meant sneaking past your mother and out the side door, on his way to trek toward that stupid haunted tree that he hated so much.Ā
He hated that he loved the feeling of Bobbyās teeth crunching under his knuckles so much. And he also hated that you didnāt speak to him for a whole day afterwards.Ā
That was when you started sneaking out instead of just telling him where you were going. Ray wasnāt sure what he regretted more: pissing you off by disrupting your date, or not being the one to ask you out first.Ā
āWarning, Warning 47! First Warning!āĀ
Ray was jolted from his sleep by that horrible sound, and immediately greeted with the feeling of Pete tugging on his backpack, keeping him on track.Ā
āWas I asleep?ā He mumbled stupidly, rubbing his eyes.Ā
āYeah.ā Pete said. āYour mind usinā the old escape hatch. Aināt that amazinā? You can fall asleep while walkinā.āĀ
āItās fuckinā bizarre.ā Ray replied.Ā
āWhat were you dreaminā about?ā Pete asked, giving Ray a smile that was far too warm for the chill of the now very dark night around them, the sun long chased away and seeming like it would never return.Ā
Ray felt a twist inside of him, like a knife being driven through his insides. Oddly enough, even knowing that he might never see you again, he felt protective of you. He felt protective of your memory - like you were a ghost following him on this paved road and if he spoke your name too loudly, if he spoke it at all, then you would disappear like smoke and any last trace of you would certainly be gone.Ā
āYour girl?ā Pete said, nudging his side gently.Ā
Maybe Pete felt that ghost too.Ā
āYeah.ā Ray admitted, too tired to come up with a good lie.Ā
āThought you said she wasnāt your girl,ā Hank piped up, trailing behind Ray.Ā
Ray had almost forgotten the others were there - his hazy mind so focused on Pete.Ā
He glared at Hank, who let out a laugh.Ā
āWhatās her name?ā Pete asked.Ā
Ray was hesitant, and swallowed around his dry tongue.Ā
āY/N.ā He told Pete.Ā
āBeautiful name.ā Pete complimented easily, giving another warm smile.Ā
āIs she hot?ā Hank asked.Ā
āShut up.ā Ray said, rolling his eyes.Ā
āCome on, itās a question-ā Pearson spoke up, now suddenly behind him too. āDoes she have big tits? Small tits? Is she ugly? Is that why you donāt wanna tell us?āĀ
āIām gonna punch you right in your face,ā Ray grunted, turning toward Pearson.Ā
āDid you bring a picture?ā Hank grinned.Ā
āObviously, any girl who fucked Garraty isnāt gonna be pretty.ā Stebbins said, loudly joining the conversation. āHave any of you seen the girls in hicktown, Maine-?āĀ
āShut up!ā Ray cried out. āSheās not ugly!āĀ
āSheās the most beautiful girl youāve ever seen.ā Ray swallowed the words, knowing it would be too cheesy.Ā
āYeah come on, lay off.ā Pete said, giving the others a harsh look. āIām sure sheās real pretty.āĀ
The words sounded too warm and genuine coming from Pete, and oddly, Ray couldnāt bring himself to be jealous. He wasnāt jealous at all - not even knowing that Pete was thinking of you, trying to conjure up some mental image of what you might be like.Ā
If he could guarantee that Pete was the only one listening, Ray would have described you to him. He would have told him how gorgeous you were; how you had a beautiful face, a perfect body - but not one āperfectā like in that stupid magazine, one that was perfect, and real, and so easy to hold. So warm. He would tell Pete how you were fiery, how you never let him get away with anything, how you struck fear into the heart of every guy who knew you and how much that turned him on. How perfectly your wet cunt clenched around his cock -Ā
āItās not like sheās gonna be in Freeport for any of us to see.ā Stebbins chuckled.Ā
āItās not like any of you sad-sacks are gonna make it to Freeport anyway.ā Ray said, glaring at him.Ā
Ray wouldnāt make it there either. He knew he wasnāt going to last.Ā
But as he stared ahead into the darkness, he tried to focus on your face. He tried to remember what your laugh sounded like. He tried to think of things that would make you smile - make a list in his mind so that he wouldnāt think about how dead he was on his feet.Ā
Cinnamon rockets. Petting other peopleās dogs. Climbing trees. Constellations that have funny names. Snails that make a trail of poop behind them. Creepy stories with a funny ending. The last cigarette out of the pack. The way Rayās cheeks get red when he laughs too hard. Licking the spoon when his mom makes a big batch of cookies.Ā
A gunshot went off behind him, and Ray reached out for Peteās hand. Pete squeezed his grip tightly back.Ā
He would like to think that if you ever got to meet Pete, Ray would get to add him to that list.Ā
ā¦Ā
The first night was deceivingly easy.Ā
He marched through, and at times, upon Peteās insistence, even leaned on him to indulge in some of that bizarre, walking sleep once again.Ā
The second day, everyone was quieter. The dread had truly set in.Ā
It seemed like a blink and then the sun was setting again.Ā
The second night was hell.Ā
All too soon, Ray realized it was designed that way. Lure everyone into a false sense of security - trick them into thinking the entirety of The Long Walk would just be a war between them and their own mind. And then catch them off guard.Ā
Stebbins was right when he said a lot of them were going to die on the hill - a lot of them did. It went from damn near calm to a parade of gunfire in a single breath and Ray found himself racing, running from it. He regretted what he said to Pete, but maybe thatās just the kind of guy he was - someone who let his mouth operate on a fuse, someone who couldnāt control the knee-jerk fear, especially not when it had a carbine pointed at his back.Ā
But still, like you - Pete forgave him too easily.Ā
Pete held him until morning. When his eyes blinked open, the back of his shirt was still damp from the canteen he had dumped over his head. Or maybe it was from the sweat. A deadly combination - sweating so much from the constant walking and letting the chill of the night get to you. He had heard of guys who developed pneumonia from it in past years - skinny guys who werenāt so healthy anyway. And they collapsed on The Walk, coughing and sick.Ā
Stebbins had been coughing and he didnāt look so good, but he claimed it was just allergies.Ā
In the back of his mind, Ray still remembered what your brother had looked like near the end - his face turning inhuman colours, choking to get a single breath. He shuddered at the thought. He had been intensely careful not to trip, looking out for potential dangers on the ground. He was sad that it was a lesson he had to learn from a dead man that he had once called a friend.Ā
The sun was barely coming up over the horizon and there was no warmth to be had from it yet. Ray gave a vicious shiver, wiggling the hand down by his side, the one that wasnāt draped over Peteās shoulder, hating how numb his fingers felt.Ā
āItās fuckinā cold.ā Ray said quietly, stretching his neck, trying to better wake up.Ā
āYouāll be alright.ā Pete told him, giving his side a squeeze with the arm he had slid under Rayās backpack to support him. āIāll keep you warm.āĀ
Ray gave a soft smile - one that was soon dampened when he heard it again. That stupid fucking voice.Ā
āYou made it through the night, boys!ā The Major announced, cheering them on proudly. āMaking it through that hill takes some real sac. Weāre almost at the 100 Mile Marker now! There is a sure winner among you - now letās just weed him out!āĀ
Nobody cheered. They were all tired. They were all worn down.Ā
āWarning, Warning 49! Second Warning!āĀ
Ray glanced back. Harkness was limping - Ray couldnāt see it past Bakerās height, but he was dragging a mangled mess of a leg with him.Ā
āMy ankle! My ankleās all twisted up.ā Harkness cried out, slowing drastically as he sobbed.Ā
āDonāt look.ā Pete huffed at him, tugging on the arm around his shoulder, jerking his attention back to the front. āYou donāt have to look.āĀ
āMy ankle!ā Harkness cried out again.Ā
āWarning, Warning 49! Final Warning!āĀ
Ray expected the gunshot. He hated that he was becoming used to it by now.Ā
What he did not expect was for the shot to fire off in front of them.Ā
He didnāt expect The Majorās body to drop like a bag of rocks, some blood splattering on him and Pete where they were at the front of the pack.Ā
He did not expect Harknessās cries to continue.Ā
āWhat the fuck?āĀ
āDid you see that?āĀ
āIs this real?āĀ
āWhat the fuck is happening?āĀ
āGet down!āĀ
Pete yelled those last words, and somehow had the good instinct to drag Ray down to the ground with him. Rayās stomach twisted up at the idea of quitting walking, his whole body screaming that quitting now and stilling was a sentence of certain death. But he was too tired and too shocked to fight it, and soon his stomach hit the pavement as more gunshots rang out.Ā
Nobody was given any warnings.Ā
He expected it to be called out: Warning 47, First Warning - but it never came. He hugged the pavement with his hands over his head, with Pete protectively laying on top of his back, noise and chaos all around them. Panicked breaths flowed through his lips as gunshot after gunshot rang out, and that mechanical voice never came.Ā
It was a few moments of loud, intense chaos, and then - silence. Well - Harkness was still crying, and though none of the vehicles in the motorcade were moving anymore, the motors were still chugging quietly as they ran, consuming fuel. And everyone was letting out those same panicked breaths - wait, breathing?Ā
There were still people alive.Ā
Pete was the first one to move and Ray was barely able to push himself off the ground, leaning up onto his hands and knees, shaking so harshly.Ā
āGet off the fucking pavement, Garraty.āĀ
That voice. That voice.Ā
No - no fucking way.
...
I would like to see this get 20 Reblogs and 15 Comments before I post the next part.
This is based on the number of notes that the preview moodboard got, and I hope that I'm not being overeager or overshooting. I would really like to encourage people to engage with the fic - that's the general purpose of this goal.
Keep in mind, I do always keep my inbox open, and I do always keep anon turned on for people that are shy, and I encourage comments there if you don't want to make a discussion in the comments of this post, I would love to hear about your thoughts in my inbox as well. And if you feel like reblogging without making any comments and just being silent, that is awesome too!
I am so, so, so excited to be posting my first long fic for this fandom, and I hope that I will be posting many more in the future. These characters are so inspiring, and I could write so much about them. I love them all so much.
Authors Note; Iāve never written for a reader or y/n before, only OCs so, Iāll do my best.
Warningsā ļø; this story will have mature content in it, which means that there will be sexual content, violence, sensitive topics, mental health issues etc. If any of these topics will be mentioned or written out in detail, there will be an extra trigger warning in this particular chapter. This story will be taking place in the late 90s to early 2000s cause sex stores were more common than.ļæ¼
Kitty cat, kitty cat, run, run, run
Collie Parker needs a job, most people do, especially when the landlord of your college dorms (more like 3 shoeboxes stacked on top of each other, thatās including the basement) raises the rent; a job becomes more essential.
Hot mama, big dog, big game, no drama
Hank and Richard took up planning events for people, well Richard does most of the documentation, and Hank just bosses him around. Pete and Art help out at a nursing home for old war veterans, Ray and Stebbins work at Stebbinsās jackass fatherās bar⦠and then thereās Collie.
Never make babies, canāt get rabies
Who somehow had to ask Barkovitch, of all people, for help with a job. A sex store (āitās adult novelty items!ā) of all places, the place brought out the creepiest of men, had a strange smell that never seemed to leave, kinks you never thought were possible; the pay⦠good enough for a college student for rent and still enough for some food.
Makinā head hit and itās crazy
Gary had taken too much joy, explaining all the sections of the store, with every corner they turned Collieās faith in humanity seemed to diminish. Introducing Collie to all the other employees, warning him about the regulars that come in. Gary also took a strange interest in watching Collie flirt with you, but not in a weird way⦠right?
I love the long walk so so much, Barkovitch has my heart and if youād write literally anything relating to him you can have my soul. š
Happy Halloween, give me your soul. Also, the Long Walk doesn't nearly have enough content on here. I wish I had more long walk asks. <\3
YANDERE GARY
TWS: self harm, mention of masturbation, obsessive and abusive behaviours.
Yandere Gary's song is IFHY by TYLER, THE CREATOR.
HOPELESS
A romantic that has never had the time or opportunity to flourish, Gary is obsessive to the most alarming degree. He can't go a minute without his thoughts circling back to you. A daydreamer that itches to act on impulse but would rather itch his skin raw than embarrass himself in front of you.
His head is a minefield. It's never been a fun place to get stuck in, but now there's you. You manifest as pockets of warmth and excitement, something so much safer to think about compared to all of the other horrible, boring things that cause him strife. The back and forth between bliss and that drives him crazy, and you indirectly become his safe space.
When he gets angry, the bad thoughts infect the good ones and spoil them forever. They're poisoned with insecurities and past failures he's frightened of repeating. He overthinks every minuscule interaction you've never even had. You won't know Gary wants you until he's long gone in self loathing reconstruction.
He'll grow to both idolise and resent you. He's too deep in his head to get out of the pattern and act on anything he wants until it's festered and become wholly impure. Here he is, out past curfew, fantasing about holding your hand as he trails behind you on the dark sidewalk, glaring at you for being such a stupid bitch and not knowing he needs you.
He gets aggressive and assertive with himself in some effort to force action. Too insecure to actually go through with it, he often tweaks out in front of his mirror after preening, smacking himself in the face and punching his wall, which makes his dad shout. He'll suck a bloody knuckle and sniffle at his reflection, scowling at everything he wants to make look better.
You are perfect and that is horrible. He wants you, but he isn't sure if he wants to want you. You cause him so much trouble and you don't even seem to care or know. At the same time he's not certain he deserves you, but when he gets desperate enough he'll delude himself that you deserve one another.
HUNGER
He follows you around. It's not to creep you out. He cares deeply about what you think of him, deeply enough that he won't even dare to properly introduce himself. What if you see something you don't like? It'll ruin everything before it's even begun. He can't stomach that. He can't bear to spoil anything, but it's too hard to stay away, so you've got a paparazzi.
It makes him inexplicably angry that you don't love him back. He knows it's not your fault, he hasn't given you much to work with. Not being able to blame you almost makes it worse, now he can only blame himself. He rarely dares to dream of your acceptance. Most of his fantasies are soured by the idea that you're judging him. He feels as though you might be able to read his mind from across the road, as he snaps picture after picture.
Nights are spent following behind you just out of view, muttering bitterly to his camera screen as he narrates fiction, weaving a story with an identity crisis, it can't decide if it wants to be a romance or a horror. When he gets home he'll chatter animatedly to the photos he's taken, and cry in his bed post false lovers quarrel.
He's never wanted anyone or anything more than this. You make him feel pathetic and boyish, weak. He doesn't think that's okay. He might ask his father for advice and be told to man up. "Ask you out, buy you some flowers." When he saves enough to get you a bouquet, he's so fidgety that the stems are picked clean of leaves and petals before they even make it to your doorstep.
Pain sometimes helps. He might bite his lips raw or pick his fingernails until they're bloody to avoid calling out to you on the street or rushing over and just jumping on you. A part of him wants you to know the pain that he's putting himself through, to love him for it, so he dedicates every wince and flinch to you. A silent call of yearning swallowed by the space between you. It's how he keeps himself in check. Sometimes, he wants to hurt you too.
It's a cycle. He tells himself that he'll really talk to you this time, tell a joke that'll make you fall in love with him. Then you can date and he can do all of the things he's wanted to do for ages, like introduce you to his cat and... then the guilt and doubt comes back, as it always does, and whatever feigned confidence he'd been ready to dazzle you with crumbles like the worn plaster on his bedroom wall. Another punch, another smack, then he's reaching for his camera and putting on his coat.
HABITS
Barkovitch can bark and bitch up a storm when he feels vindicated enough, and everything about you sets him off like a live wire. Arguments that he needs to have with himself are going to become your problem, if you ever get that far.
His anxiety borne of you tweaks him out, so he has to find outlets. He might snap at you, throw an arm he didn't mean to. Assuming you're patient and kind with his glaring issues, then he doesn't want to hurt you on purpose. He might fantasise about giving you a good smack when he's really low, but he cares far too much about your opinion of him to ever act out on that. You'll just get the silent, smouldering, hunched over glare instead.
You make him fidget. Skin picking, hair pulling, nail biting. He's developed a whole list of problems that he'll insist are made up. Trichotillomania, Dermatillomania, Onychotillomania... Signs are everywhere. Kisses that are too harsh and taste like blood. Hair in letters he didn't mean to leave there. Discarded uneven nail trimmings that you pick up with your socks. He itches and scratches at his skin until it's bleeding and pink. Sometimes he'll tug himself to the thought of you upwards of fourteen times a day until he's so sore that he can't anymore. He suffers severe OCD.
Speaking of which, he needs to take pictures of you. Each one is a memento of that exact wonderful or horrible moment, all are kept. If he doesn't get at least a picture a day he's convinced you'll die, or stop existing, like you'll poof into smoke and it'll turn out he completely imagined you the whole time. He's gone broke buying so much film and the shop processing fees are way too far up his ass, so a tiny red room in his closet has been set up to develop at home. The walls are sticky with photos, and the washing line he pegs them up to dry on has run out of space. He has a handful of favourites, but they're always changing.
He'll show the best pictures to other boys, gleaming with pride and bragging to see their faces fall. But he's possessive, and when he sees intruige instead of misery, he'll get angry at them for looking. He can't make his mind up. He wants to show you off to prove he's got you, but at the same time he wants to lock you up and keep you all to himself.
Barkovitch yearns to be gentle. He doesn't know that he needs it, but he does. Inherently, in his heart, he is a softer thing. Conditioning tells him that gentleness is weakness, and that's a feminine trait. Neglect tells him that he doesn't deserve a soft touch. Bullying tells him that it's a trap. His head tells him that it's all going to end horribly. But pet his hair, brush his shoulders and hold him without judgement - then you might unlock something that comes with free tears and a lifetime subscription to godlike worship.
I could write about this loser for hours, but I spat this out in a hurry when I finally got to it. Hope it's alright.
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I'd like to request richard harkness pre-relationship hc's, maybe he's the type of friend that can get jealous and sad with his crush but maintains his kindness and hope? what do you think?
hi this is such a good request and as you can tell i got a little carried away writing it lol
i hope this is okay and at least a little bit what you wanted :) it's not very headcanony and more like paragraphs bullet pointed
I feel like he's from pennsylvania, specifically the atlantic plain along the delaware river. he definitely lives in a foresty area where houses are decently far away from each other. he lives in a small town where everyone know everyone and nothing ever happens.
you two grew up together. houses on opposite sides of town but frequently playing together on the playground in the middle of town. the small school you and your classmates tall and imposing next to your bare bones play area.
as you grew up you went from seeing him as a playmate to a genuine friend. your time spent together helping you both ignore the state of the world. a world your young minds don't fully comprehend.
during class you two would always pair up with the other. both your mind racing for opposite subjects. your interests more technical and complex while his are more creative and insightful. every time you're forced to write an essay, you go to him for support (especially since you pushed it off until the night before). every time he has to solve complex math problems he knocks on your door with the assignment already out.
once you two hit teens you spent more and more time at the other's house. his nights spent laying on your porch roof, looking up and listing off the constellations. your days spent curled up on his couch, soft radio being drowned out by the sounds of pencil scratching on paper.
senior year of high school is when he starts acting off around you. at first you're skipping over it, ignoring his lack of eye contact as his being nervous for his 18th birthday. soon he starts fumbling over his words, something you brush off as his fear of losing his job. when he doesn't talk to you at graduation you finally take notice.
"Harkness! Hey, we graduated three weeks ago and I haven't had a chance to talk to you. What the hell, man?"
you finally have him cornered. your birthday was in two weeks and you were NOT letting him miss it. not for anyone. you hand is on your hip and you feel like you're lecturing your kid. staring him down he looks fragile under your gaze.
"I've been busy."
"Bullshit, Harkness. That's the exact excuse your mom uses every time I stop by your place."
"You stop by?"
"Uh, yeah? Every morning at 7. Just like normal??"
he stops then, all his little movements pausing at your confession. he looks up at you, really looking now. his eyes soft behind thick glass. eyebrows furrowed as he thinks, his fingers twisting in his palms. your hand rests heavy on your hip, your foot tap tap tapping away as you wait for a response. any response. what you don't expect is for him to reach forward. hands warm as they cup your cheeks.
"Have you really been showing up every day? No one told me."
"They always said you were busy, writing or working."
"I've been spending a lot of time by the water."
you nod, your mobility limited by his hold. blinking, you realize how safe you feel in his presence. your anxiety from being ignored slowly ebbing away. you two stand in silence. early autumn wind biting at the tip of your nose. the ground is still wet from last night shower, grass spongy beneath your feet.
"Why have you been ignoring me? Did I do something?"
he smushes your cheeks, hands squeezing you flesh until your lips purse. you let him. nothing about the interaction has you feeling the need to pull away. you want to me here, in this moment, with him. want to let him squeeze your cheeks as freeze nips at your exposed fingertips.
"No, I just thought you'd want to spend time with your boyfriend before he volunteers."
"Boyfriend? Who? Mike? We're not dating."
"Since when?"
"Since, like, a week before graduation."
"He said-."
"Don't tell me you listened to that nut job. He's convinced i'll come running back all because he volunteered."
"You're not together."
he says it like he's trying to convince himself. like it's not a clear fact that you explained plainly. you're stuck standing still, his eyes intense as he stares into yours. the soft glow of the setting sun covers his features in animated shadows. he drops his hands, calloused fingertips slide down your skin leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
"Do you wanna stay at my place tonight? You can help me plan my birthday. I'm going all out. Bounce house, clowns, a man in that giant rat costume from that abandoned restaurant downtown."
"I didn't realize we had a winner in our town, congratulations."
"You know how it is. Kiss and never tell."
he gives you a snort. his eyes darting away as you smile. your cheeks burning with how wide it is. what starts off as a small haha turns into a fit of giggles. reaching out you gently push on his shoulder before clamping down on it as your giggles start to subside. rubbing at your eyes you take his hand in yours and start to drag him towards the direction of your house. palm clamped against palm, you guide him into onto the dirt path feet made over the years.
"Maybe Mike can do interviews about winning. Something like that could make you enough to get outta this town."
"I'd write a book. If I volunteered."
"You'd make millions. Could go all the way to Beverly Hills."
"I could get out of the country. I always wanted to live in Spain."
A/n: 85% of this was written at 4:00 in the morning because I couldnāt sleep and I needed to get this out of my head. Iām working on a longer Collie fic right now, some things written here may or may not be mentioned in that..
Collie Parker loves to show his affection through acts of service.
This isnāt to say that he canāt show affection through the things he says or anything else, itās quite the opposite actually, he can be very romantic with his words when he wants to be. But, he prefers to show that he cares by doing things for you. āActions speak louder than wordsā and all that.
Even before the two of you started dating, he was eager to help you with anything you needed.
Your carās been acting weird lately? Heāll have a look at it. Forgot something you needed from the grocery store? Heāll drive out and grab it for you. Thereās a tear in your favorite jacket? He has no idea how to sew, but heāll find someone who does!
Sometimes you didnāt even need to approach him with a problem. Heād just randomly complete a task for you without anybody asking him to. (You once woke up, looked out your window, and saw him painting your fence; and the only explanation heād give you was that āit needed to be paintedā.)
Once the two of you finally do get together, itās the same story.
Now heās planning all of your dates for the two of you, making dinner reservations, buying tickets to your local drive-in movie theater, making sure you donāt have to worry about any of it.
On nights when you two are staying in, he loves cooking for you. Though, this is a rare case where he actually would like you to help him because 1. Cooking with your partner is a great way to bond. And 2. He thinks you look cute with your hair tied back and your sleeves rolled up.
Speaking of tying your hair up, let him do that for you. Just imagine youāre washing your hands before you begin cooking and he comes up behind you and puts your hair into a ponytail for you (and kisses the part of your neck that your hair was covering before. Yum).
His tendency to service you whenever he can also carries over into the bedroom. (PLEASURE DOM!!!)
The first couple times you guys had sex, heād basically survey you afterward about what felt good, what you did and didnāt like, etc. It was strange, sure. But, the payoff (him learning exactly what he needed to do to make you see stars) was 100% worth it.
Type of guy who wants to make you cum at least once before actually fucking you.
His biggest turn on is pleasuring you. Doesnāt matter if itās with his mouth or fingers, heās getting hard from it.
Amazing at giving head. Will literally bury his face into your pussy and make out with your cunt. And heās so good at reading your body language and knowing when to slow down, speed up, go harder, softer, etc.
Heās very considerate of your comfort during sex. Doesnāt like putting you into positions that he thinks would be uncomfortable and ALWAYS makes sure thereās a pillow under your lower back.
During sex, the only thing he says more than āDoes that feel good?ā is āI love you.ā
King of aftercare. Youāre not gonna have to get up for anything if you donāt want to. And if you need shower, heās hopping in there with you and offering to wash your hair for you.
Of course, he never asks you to repay his favors, and of course, you find ways to thank him anyways ;)