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 Posted: Sat Oct 12, 2024 8:09 pm
The smile Atticus wore when Énna opened the door was small, almost sad. He was happy to see his friend, but displeased about the circumstances.
Just the night before, Riker had texted Elliot, telling him how he’d confessed his identity to Énna. He wanted to make sure Énna was okay, and asked Elliot to ask Atticus to check in on him. Atticus knew that Elliot would have liked to make sure Énna was okay, too, but he also had to meet with a group for school that day.
“Cassidy dropped these off,” he explained with a quiet laugh. “He’s been on a baking spree I think. I thought you might like to share them with me. I always like eating pastries and hot chocolate or tea when I’m stressed. Um… and I’m feeling a little stressed. So thank you for letting me come over.”
He let Énna take a peek at what was in the box. They looked like custard filled donuts. “They’re some Italian recipe. Um… I don’t remember the name. Bom-- something, sorry. I’m sure Cassidy will ask how we liked them.”
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Posted: Sat Oct 12, 2024 8:09 pm
“Right,” Énna said.
He didn’t smile back, not even to be nice. He stepped aside to let Atticus into the house. Once he had the door closed, Énna stood there fidgeting. He picked at his nails, which looked to be in rougher shape than usual, like he’d spent a day chipping away at the polish.
Énna never invited friends over, first because he didn’t have any friends, then because many of the ones he made were well off and he didn’t want to feel even more out of place than he already did. The house was small and old, painstakingly updated by his dads one piece at a time—at least when Daddy was still around. Dad hadn’t had the heart to change anything else since he died.
The front door opened directly into the living room, which transitioned into the dining area, and the kitchen tucked around the corner.
“Um… did you want to try them out here? Or in my room?” he asked quietly. “Dad won’t be home until late so we have the house to ourselves.”
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Posted: Sat Oct 12, 2024 8:10 pm
“I would like to see your room,” Atticus responded, matching Énna’s quiet tone in the hopes that he would help him be comfortable with a somewhat unplanned guest. But he paused and seemed to think about it for a moment and then amended what he’d said.
“Well… if you don’t mind having food in your room. I don’t know how messy these are going to be. I brought napkins but…”
The last thing he wanted was to never be invited back.
He stepped into the house and politely removed his shoes so he wouldn’t track dirt all over a nice living room. Énna looked like he was upset. Maybe even crying, or at the very least anxious.
“Are you okay?” he asked just as quietly, still holding his box of pastries as he waited to follow Énna either to the couch or kitchen or maybe even his room. His voice was cautious, like he was afraid to ask the wrong question or say the wrong thing.
He didn’t like having to walk on eggshells, but he really was worried about his friend. Even if he’d been pushed to actually try to physically see Énna outside of classes instead of just texting or calling, it didn’t mean he cared about him any less than their other friends.
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Posted: Sat Oct 12, 2024 8:10 pm
“I’m fine,” Énna said, but he wasn’t very insistent about it, nor did he sound fine. “We can go into my room.”
He led the way—around the loveseat and past a record player stand, into a tiny hallway where three doors branched off. Turning right, he let Atticus into his room at the back of the house.
Just large enough for a desk, a dresser, and a queen sized bed, Énna’s room boasted turquoise walls and fairy lights strung up along part of the ceiling. Nail care supplies littered his bedside table; a big plastic box full of different polishes sat on the floor within reach. His dance bag and school bag hung on a pair of hooks by the door. He kept his room neat since there wasn’t much space for mess, but the bed was unmade and his hamper would soon be overflowing. His laptop sat sleeping on his desk, along with a collection of notebooks, pens, and other supplies. Along the back wall, a big picture window looked out onto the trees in the backyard.
Énna climbed up onto his bed. He didn’t extend an invitation verbally, but he looked toward Atticus in a way that might encourage him to follow suit. There weren’t very many other places to sit anyway.
“Why are you feeling stressed?” Énna asked so he wouldn’t have to talk about himself.
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Posted: Sat Oct 12, 2024 8:11 pm
Atticus wasn’t convinced that Énna was fine, but he didn’t argue with him. At least not yet. Instead, he let Énna lead the way to his room, which, as expected, was full of personality.
He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips to see the color of the walls and the pretty lights hanging around the room. The unmade bed didn’t bother him, and he quickly followed Énna’s example by climbing up onto the bed as well.
With the box of treats set down between them, he showed Énna another small smile.
“Nightmares, mostly. I know it’s kind of silly to worry about when I know they’re not real, but reliving the past isn’t very fun.”
He wanted to be open and honest with Énna. There was no reason to hide things from him, and Atticus trusted him. He just hoped he didn’t dump too much on him.
“Um… so, before I became, well… me… I lived with other people who were-- if I’m being honest and fair with myself -- really horrible.” He didn’t like talking badly about people, but if he didn’t come to terms with what happened, how could he ever move forward?
“It still keeps me up at night sometimes, even though I know I’m safe now. Usually when there are sirens nearby. I know I won’t be able to be found because of the magic, but-- what if I saw people from my past? I don’t know if I would be able to walk away without breaking down.”
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Posted: Sat Oct 12, 2024 8:11 pm
Énna might not want to talk about himself, but he felt awkward listening to Atticus talk instead, even if he’d been the one to ask the initial question. Sympathy was… complicated. Or maybe he was just messed up. Of course he felt bad, but he also didn’t like feeling bad. Not right now. Not after he’d felt bad for Reims and then found out he was Riker and felt angry and bitter about Riker while still feeling bad for him.
It was a convoluted jumble of emotions. Énna didn’t know how to go about untangling them.
“I’m sorry,” he said, picking at his quilt like he’d found a loose thread, only there wasn’t one to speak of. He looked down instead of meeting Atticus’ eyes.
Then he didn’t know what to say at all. Asking questions seemed intrusive, and he didn’t know what to ask anyway. Offering comfort made him feel useless and empty, because he knew it would never be enough and he didn’t know which way was best. He couldn’t commiserate because his family was only broken because Daddy was dead. Otherwise they’d been loving. Énna had a comparatively good life.
He felt like s**t, moping when other people had it worse.
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Posted: Sat Oct 12, 2024 8:12 pm
Atticus smiled softly, even as his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He’d probably misunderstood what Énna was asking from him. Maybe he should have just said he was stressed about school and left it at that.
He liked Énna. He thought he had a huge chip on his shoulder, and was frequently sad and standoffish, but he was reliable and loyal, especially as a Knight. Atticus didn’t think there was anything wrong with that. He’d kept to himself for years until Elliot practically forced himself into his life.
Which, of course, had been embarrassing as well. But things turned out better. He wanted to give Énna all the patience he needed, but he was also trying not to make Énna regret having him over by being super cringy.
“Here, you should pick one first,” he offered, gently pushing the box of donuts towards Énna. “Sorry, I end up talking too much when given the chance, sometimes. I really like your room. Would you be upset if I got some fairy lights for my room, too? I don’t want you to think I’m stealing your ideas or anything!”
He definitely didn’t want Énna to think he was just copying him without at least telling him his intentions.
“When did you first start painting your nails? I’ve seen you with a lot of nail art. Do you do it all yourself or are there things you just stick on? Sorry, we don’t have to talk if you’d rather just sit here,” he quickly added, wanting Énna to be comfortable in his own room.
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Posted: Sat Oct 12, 2024 8:12 pm
“It’s fine,” Énna said, even if the awkwardness hadn’t bled away yet.
He took one of the donuts for something to do more than any desire to eat. They looked delicious. Normally Énna would be excited to try them, but eating felt like a chore right then. He took a perfunctory bite and chewed slowly, trying to fill the silence with the activity. He wasn’t successful.
“Sorry,” he said again, without really knowing what he was apologizing for. For being quiet? For being awkward? For not knowing what to say? He felt like such a loser, drowning in petty anger and pointless sadness while other people had real problems to deal with, worse memories to stomach.
“Um… I don’t know.” Énna glanced down at his nails. The glittery, deep red polish was chipped from all his fidgeting and picking, in need of some cleaning up, but he’d felt too down on himself to bother. “I don’t really remember when… I think I always sort of liked it. Sometimes I do it myself.” He took another bite of the donut simply to go through the motions of being human. “But… there are stencils to help if I want a cleaner design. And… I have some stickers and foil and rhinestones, too.
“I probably shouldn’t do it,” he added quietly. “People aren’t always nice about it.”
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Posted: Sat Oct 12, 2024 8:13 pm
“It’s okay,” Atticus said softly, knowing how it felt to feel like he needed to apologize for everything. It sounded like Énna was struggling and didn’t really know what to do or say. But Atticus could tell he was trying.
“I think you should do whatever makes you feel comfortable and happy. I’ve had my nails painted before, usually at a salon my, um… grandmother takes me and my cousins to. But I’m definitely not coordinated enough to do it myself. At least not do it well. I think you’re really talented to be able to do art on such a small canvas.”
He paused, reaching in the box to pick out a donut for himself for the motion of doing it, and took a little bite. He’d already had one from another box, but it was still good.
“People are threatened by things they don’t understand. And sometimes they’re needlessly cruel. I’m sorry you’ve experienced that,” he said quietly after a few moments of thought. He’d experienced it as well. The way he dressed, the way he had his hair. He’d been forced to keep it short and wear clothes he didn’t like. But he could tell that talking about himself made things awkward for Énna, so he didn’t mention it.
And while he didn’t want to upset Énna further, he didn’t like keeping things from him.
“I wanted to share these with you, but before I texted you… I heard from Elliot. He said Riker wanted us to make sure you were okay. That he’d messed up and didn’t want you to be alone,” he quietly explained.
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Posted: Sat Oct 12, 2024 8:13 pm
“Riker can go to hell,” Énna said.
He’d suspected, of course, that Atticus being there had something to do with that. If Énna liked him less he would’ve turned Atticus away, but he didn’t actually want to hurt Atticus even if it hurt him to think he was only there because of Riker, not because he actually wanted to be. Énna knew that probably wasn’t the case—Atticus hadn’t seemed very comfortable when Riker was with them at the fair, after all—but he couldn’t quite convince himself completely. There was always a nagging voice in his head telling him his friends were only friends with him for convenience.
Énna put the donut down so he didn’t make a mess. His hands shook. He wanted to stalk off, maybe shove something around or slam a door. He wanted to hide. He wanted to cry, too. Any of those things would make him look pathetic, so he stayed where he was and picked at his nails again.
“If he wanted to make sure I’m okay then he shouldn’t have been such an a*****e. You can tell him I don’t need him worrying about me. Or Elliot can, I don’t care. If you’re all friends or whatever.”
He wanted to be meaner and felt guilty for it. None of it was Atticus’ fault. A part of Énna still felt bad for Riker’s situation, too, and he hated that. Why couldn’t he just be mad about it without all the rest of it making him feel like an a*****e?
“Did everyone else know and I was the only idiot too stupid to see it?”
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Posted: Sat Oct 12, 2024 8:13 pm
Atticus didn’t say anything to disagree with Énna. He sat quietly on the bed and watched and listened. He set his donut down as well, and moved it to the side so there weren’t any messes made.
“You’re my friend,” he said quietly, understanding how mad and upset Énna must have been. Atticus was not happy about what Riker had done. Riker had been mean to him and Julian too. Elliot was… well, Elliot was perfect, but he also had the privilege of being a handsome, boy-next-door who was friendly with everyone and who resisted conflict by diplomatically attempting to come up with solutions for everyone.
Atticus loved and appreciated that about him. But Elliot didn’t have to worry about being called names based solely on appearance, or assumptions, or based on his tastes. Atticus didn’t begrudge him for it, but Elliot didn’t have to be on guard in every public situation, for fear of people like Riker making fun of them.
“You’re not an idiot. Elliot made a guess, and it turned out to be right. Riker said he wanted to fix things and tell you, himself. I was, um… going to tell you if he didn’t say anything before Halloween,” Atticus mumbled sheepishly. He didn’t want to be accused of not being able to keep secrets, but this was a little more than that. Énna had the right to know that the person he got along with so well was living a double life as someone who had been cruel to him.
“It was only recently,” he further clarified, his voice still soft and remorseful for not letting Énna know sooner. “And only because we helped patch him up after he was hurt. The Code brought us to him…”
He knew that Énna cared about Reims, or that he used to. It wasn’t fair that he was also Riker. So he didn’t go into details if details weren’t wanted.
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Posted: Sat Oct 12, 2024 8:14 pm
Énna glanced off to the side mutinously.
It felt like all of his friends were betraying him. Even if some of them did it with good intentions. First Reims lied to him this whole time, pretending to be someone he wasn’t, or being himself but not telling the truth, or whatever. Now his other friends were keeping secrets for someone they had to know had been cruel to him. Riker never made much of a secret when it came to the people he made fun of. In fact he seemed to do it for the express purpose of being noticed.
So what if it’d been a while since Riker had made fun of him? So what if he hadn’t done it all that often to begin with? He’d still made Énna feel stupid, and other people picked up where he left off. Even if Riker wasn’t the ringleader, he was still responsible, and other than apologizing he hadn’t done anything to fix it.
“You should’ve told me as soon as you found out,” Énna argued, but there wasn’t much heat in his voice, which had gone weak and quiet.
He hunched in on himself, loose hair falling into his face.
“I thought he liked me,” Énna said. “Reims. But he was probably just laughing at me the whole time.”
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Posted: Sat Oct 12, 2024 8:15 pm
Atticus didn’t blame Énna for looking away from him, or trying to hide. He twisted his hands together anxiously, wanting to reach out to his friend, but knew he was hurting and probably wanted to be left alone. He was right in that he should have told Énna as soon as he found out, but…
Elliot wanted to give Riker a chance. And in many ways, Atticus wanted to give him a chance, too. But just as he’d thought when he found out Reims was Riker, it was up to Énna whether or not he would forgive him, and Atticus would support his friend no matter what he decided.
“I’m sorry,” he gently apologized, although he knew it wasn’t going to be enough. Not when Énna was already feeling hurt and betrayed by Reims.
“I don’t think he was laughing at you at all. He sounded sincere. He didn’t want you finding out about his injury, not wanting you to worry. And he said he didn’t want you to hate him. He’d even talked some about changing his identity after finding out that I had to.”
Riker could have disappeared without anyone ever seeing him again, but part of Atticus wondered if he didn’t immediately try to do that because he wanted to come clean to Énna. Or maybe it was bad timing. Or other factors.
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Posted: Sat Oct 12, 2024 8:15 pm
“I don’t hate him,” Énna mumbled.
He wanted to. Hating Riker would probably be easier. Then he could cut him off and not talk to him anymore and maybe not hurt as much. A part of him thought it was what Riker deserved, but then he remembered what Reims had said about his family, how he always felt like he wasn’t wanted.
“I’m mad that I don’t hate him,” Énna confessed. “And I’m sad that I want to. And I don’t know what to do about it because I don’t want to forgive him.”
Énna’s voice grew thicker as he spoke, throat tightening around the words. He swallowed heavily, but it didn’t seem to help. Soon his eyes began to burn. Énna tried to blink the tears away.
“I feel so stupid. Like I should’ve known. They look exactly alike,” he said, voice hitching on a single, bitter laugh. “And I know it’s the magic, but… it isn’t fair that I thought he was someone else, and now he’s not. Everything’s ruined and nothing’ll ever be like it was. I really liked Reims. I still…”
He still liked him. Some part of his mind still saw Reims and Riker as different people, but he knew he couldn’t go on pretending that they were.
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Posted: Sat Oct 12, 2024 8:16 pm
Oh…
Even if Atticus wanted to give Énna his own space, he felt compelled to quickly inch closer to him and wrap his arms around his friend.
His embrace was loose to make sure Énna wouldn’t immediately want to shove him away, in which case Atticus would absolutely back off. But in case he didn’t mind the physical touch, Atticus was ready to comb his fingers through Énna’s hair and rub his back and hold him close.
“Don’t feel stupid. I didn’t know either. He… he behaves differently as Reims,” Atticus quietly pointed out, because he remembered being surprised when Elliot figured it out.
“Riker always seems awkward and anxious and talks a big game and says mean things, but it’s like he doesn’t know how to follow through. I don’t know why he’s like that. He doesn’t seem as, um… mean when he’s playing baseball with Elliot and the team. It might have to do with how often his mother shows up.”
Yelling cruel things at the other team and being threatened to get kicked out every time. He was probably embarrassed. And maybe he deserved it a little, given what he’d done to Énna and probably many others.
“You have every right not to forgive him, Énna. He’s said mean things to you and made your life miserable. It’s not fair, and it shouldn’t be your burden. I’m so sorry.”
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