Chapter Text
nibs got back just around noon, a few minutes after erika and bryce had finished their sandwiches. washing and drying plates in a simple conveyor belt, both turned their heads to the living room as the door heaved itself open. he turned his head to and fro before erika leaned away from the sink, waving. hey, we’re in here.
“it’s cold out,” nibs remarked, shrugging his shoulders up to his ears, reddened by the nipping wind. “probably gonna be another intense winter.”
wincing, erika spun around the face him, turning the faucet off blindly. “don’t say that. i can’t have a repeat of last year. it got so bad that the frost was killing my indoor plants.”
running the coarse cloth over the edge of the plate, bryce co*cked her chin. “it’s only september, don’t worry.”
“almost october, really,” corrected erika, pointing with a dripping spoon. “kind of crazy, right?”
bryce blinked, monotonously moving to put the dried plate up on its shelf. jamie had been dead for going on two months. so much time had slipped by, wriggling past her mind like an oily fish. her father had showed her how to catch them with her bare hands, down by the creek bed. red clay stained his feet, pants rolled to his knees as he hunched down and guided her hands. fingers hooked under gills misplaced, a wavering feeling of warm pain. she’d jerked her arm back, a stream of blood, a catfish at the end of it all. her mother had cut it up and cooked it for dinner. bryce still had the scars.
flexing her fingers, she glanced down at her knuckles, dotted with the memory. she returned herself to the conversation at hand, before anymore thoughts could gather. “weird,” she agreed, blankly. “time flies.”
“you guys had lunch yet?” nibs was struggling to stuff his keys into his pocket, keychains an awkward opponent to his cause. for some reason he had one of those foam floaters, the ones lifeguards had, oval and red with a big chunk missing like someone had taken a bite. there wasn’t nearly enough water around to justify needing something like that, was there?
bryce plucked the still wet spoon from erika’s hand, wiping away the spattering of droplets that remained on its bent surface.
“yeah, just did,” said erika. “peanut butter, honey, and banana sandwich for that one, PBJ for me,” smiling, she nodded to bryce who affirmed the report with a simple thumbs up. “no fires this time.”
nibs quirked a brow, gaze falling to bryce. she gave a small head shake. “no fires.”
“good to hear.”
she could sense the lull coming. in opposition to the awkward pause, bryce tossed open the silverware drawer and cast the spoon away. “i’m ready to go whenever you guys are.”
erika nodded in empty response, gaze lagging behind her movement. by the time bryce had slipped out of the kitchen, her eyes had just reached the edge of the cabinet.
she kept her wallet shoved up under the mattress, a compact leather thing she’d had for ages that barely made a lump. it was doubtful that they would let her pay for anything, but bryce had to at least push her insistence first. pulling on the worn pair of rain boots willow had gifted her, she looked up to find nibs and erika shoulder to shoulder, heads close as they shared some kind of information. she tried not to feel cheated, averting her eyes before they could turn and see her stare. something sticky and sharp prodded at the inside of her throat, scraped her larynx as she swallowed.
“oh, sh*t, you’re ready ready,” nibs had exited the kitchen, standing in the circle of the couch and armchairs as he tugged the sleeves of his sweatshirt. behind him, blocked out and just visible beyond his shoulders, erika hovered in the doorway, pressed against the frame. “i guess i didn’t realize you meant it.”
she tossed her hand to and fro limply, a whatever reaction. “it’s all good.” focus trained on erika, bryce stopped the flip-flopping of her wrist a few seconds late. she’d ghosted her way over to them now, thin, willowy movements like she was trapped in a memory.
pointing to her lap, erika frowned. “don’t bring your wallet, bryce, we’ll handle it.”
“i just like keeping it on me,” she lied. yeah right, said erika’s narrowed eyes. like you don’t try and beat me to the bill every time we go out to eat. innocently, bryce smiled, brushing off her knees before rising to her feet, wallet tucked into a pocket.
the mall was much bigger and much louder than she could’ve envisioned. everywhere she looked was flashing colors, bright insignias, pure white mannequins watching over everything from little window podiums. and that wasn’t even mentioning the people. hatty’s had done tiverborough proud in terms of industry; whenever the park was closed tourists could still flock to various other attractions nearby.
nibs nudged her hand softly, a quiet request for a status update. bryce chewed her inner lip, tucking their palms against one another. better. strong jawed and yet all the while relaxed, nothing in nibs’ posture gave way to the tension in his life. he seemed unbothered by the awkward pace he had to limp at to match bryce’s gait, nor the occasional double take shot in their direction.
on the other hand, erika seemed paranoid. no one was looking at her, not so much as they were nibs, but still she scanned the halls feverishly, eye catching on seemingly innocuous strangers. of course this was erika-paranoid; muted as was all her emotions, something you had to really look for. besides, when they entered their first store, color seemed to refill her face, the fluorescents no longer so lethal.
nibs gravitated towards the back, a wall of dress shirts all displayed in a rainbow of powder blue and khaki. he waved his hand to say he’d be back real quick. in the meantime, erika turned to bryce, smiling cautiously.
“have you thought about what you want to wear for court?” her voice was gentle, concealed. perfect for semi-private conversations in very public places. bryce shook her head. technically yes, she had thought about it, but it wasn’t the kind of productive thoughts that generated any ideas. no, instead it was thoughts of trailing after nibs, dressing spiffy and church-like, the owner of a yacht, a few prized golf clubs, a trustworthy testimony. boring, not what she wanted, but practical, free of the danger that was a woman coming up behind her to ask if she was looking for the men’s section. she didn’t want to screw over this trial, give the jury something negative to latch onto. a lame excuse of a cross dresser approaching the stand to fumble with its words and cry sensitive tranny tears.
erika nudged her forward, sweeping her arm across her and plucking a black cashmere sweater from the racks. its soft sleeves brushed her arms, warm and comfortable like a friendly cattail hug.
“what do you think of this?” erika posed, running her hand along the length of it.
bryce reached out to touch it, more purposeful this time. “it’s pretty,” the thing practically absorbed light, shimmering slightly at the soft pivot of erika’s hand. a molting oil spill. she made a quiet but guttural throat sound, shoulders slumped forward like someone was staring at the slope of her back, watching the unnatural curve of her spine and neck. “i like it.”
hesitantly, erika nodded, clearly not convinced. a bit late to her cue, bryce twisted her mouth into a shifting smile, chipped nails catching on a stray thread. reflexively she jerked back, elbow jarring the hangers of blouses behind her, sending a scatter of colored fabrics to the floor.
“oh,” she murmured, dipping down immediately. in part she wanted to pick up the mess, but mostly she wanted to hide her face from erika. “sorry.”
hot embarrassment bubbled up beneath her skin, boils of humiliation that brought tears to her eyes. chin tucked in, bryce dug her teeth deeper into the pink of her mouth. kneeling, toes and knees to the tile, heels up, erika swept her fumbling hands away. “don’t worry about it.” too fast to stop her, she’d already gathered the hangers and shirts, shuffling them by size, the motions of someone familiar with the chore.
bryce swallowed, graciously taking her hand as she unfurled from the ground and stood. “thanks,” she bumbled, rocking to and fro. erika, dipping her head in understanding, swiped at the thin sheet of dust that had accumulated on the cashmere. still held tight, it awaited her judgement. despite the prickles of public humiliation that still needled her, bryce let go of the tension in her throat. “i think i’ll get the sweater.”
a woman, twenty, maybe, with choppy blonde hair brushed by them both, a huff of dismay at being blocked. bryce pulled herself close to erika, head bowed just in case this stranger caught a glimpse of the lump in her throat.
“are you okay? do you want to leave?” ushered erika, thankfully showing no mind at all to the awkward sweatiness of bryce.
“i wanted to pick out an outfit,” she admitted sheepishly, catching the black, cashmere sleeve by the cuff. “and i still want to.”
“alright,” with a short exhale, erika placed a warm hand on her back, resting between the shoulder blades. “what are you thinking of for bottoms?”
while they were knee deep in decision making (stuck between two different skirts, one pleated, the other not) nibs crept up behind, folded dress pants tucked into his inner arm. “they didn’t have any blazers that fit me,” he clarified, shaking his head to erika. “i’ll just check somewhere else when you guys are done.”
the three of them meandered through the racks, slinging dresses and slacks over bent arms, speaking in hushed voices. by the time the trio had shoved their way to checkout, erika batting away nibs’ futile attempt to pay, it became clear that they’d shifted towards something of funeral fashion sense. their collective choices amassed together into an indistinguishable pile of black, a melting pot of shadow. as the cashier began to name the price, erika quickly shut him down, nervously laughing, waving her hand. keep it a secret.
stepping back out into the river of people, heels clicking and squealing against tile floor, bryce felt more attuned, comfortable. nibs bumped her shoulder. “are you hungry yet?”
she wasn’t, but she knew he was only asking because he was. “yeah, actually, where’s the food court here?”
smiling, nibs gestured in a vague eastern direction, guiding the trio through the bob-and-weave crowds. eventually, through some trial and error, they were able to track the buttery smell of pretzels back to its source.
wide open with a somewhat impressive display of skylights, the dining hall provided the same writhing waves of people present everywhere else in the mall. bryce blinked. it was a saturday, now that she thought of it. time had become so irrelevant to her, blended into mindless days and gritty smoothies of weeks. everything was just counting down to the next event, the next big thing.
a couple, both with big, exaggerated hair and stereotypical neon tracksuits, stood, collected their things, and left the table they’d previously claimed. erika dove for the opportunity, scraping a chair back and herding bryce into it.
“wait,” nibs frowned, pointing to the now immobile bryce, sinking into the metal embrace of her seat. “bryce, what do you want?”
“just pick something for her, she’s been walking around long enough,” erika waved him off. “hotdog on a stick or something, burger king.”
“vanilla milkshake, also,” blurted bryce just before nibs sank back into the amorphous cluster of mall-goers.
“so,” relaxing, erika heaved their bag of clothes onto the free chair, saving the space for nibs. “how’re you feeling?”
she tugged at a loose strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear in an action she hoped came across more casual than anxious. across the food court, serving as a sort of median between the puppy mill dog store and the mcdonald’s, was a colorful play place. the bright metal and plastic split the crowds, parting the ocean of shoppers. “better, you know. tired, but that’s nothing new.”
“no,” agreed erika, smiling only slightly, just enough for her eyes to crease at the edges. “this place is kind of overwhelming.”
a kid, a boy no older than six, tripped and fell up the stairs, chin connecting with the purple ledge. bryce winced, though quickly corrected herself when erika seemed to take notice, turning in her chair.
she pointed, a halfhearted attempt to explain herself. “somebody fell.”
“that place is a real hazard,” though diluted by distance and a hundred bobbing heads, occasionally through the gaps in the crowd bryce could see a security guard kneeling beside the child, ushering over a worried looking woman. sitting on the ground, the boy clutched at his face, covering everything below his eyes in a mask of thick crayon fingers. “i took micah here once for his birthday and some kid pushed him down the slide.” erika was shaking her head, clearly trying not to think of the irony of this story. slowly, the boy’s mother managed to coax him into a comfortable silence; no more sobbing echoing off the high pitched ceilings. abruptly, the kid looked up, not directly at bryce, but near enough. he let his hands drop. a thin line of red ran from his little button nose to his dimpled jaw.
not wanting to admit how terrifying this was, bryce froze in place, clammy palms resting in her lap. already it seemed the child had moved on, back to grappling for his mother to hold him, back to batting away mall security. she touched her own nose, shocked when her fingers came back dry.
“sorry,” she mumbled, the concern in erika’s expression making her blood hot. “weird feeling.”
across the table, erika opened her mouth to reassure, only to get cut off by the shrill shriek of the child. her jaw clenched, some indescribable emotion a tempest behind her eyes. bryce pulled herself away from the scene at the play place.
