Chapter Text
xlv. solidified
Jay didn't think divorce really had a scent, but he had to admit that if it did, it would probably smell like Audrey's house. It smelled like a dizzying array of florals and vanilla, with an undertone of something burnt.
Not fire, because that implied a pleasant, warm scent. Burnt.
Jay decided to table that line of thought for now as Audrey leads him to the kitchen. He sits down at the breakfast table, in the corner seat so his back is to the wall.
Audrey slumps beside him, and they both just sit there for a while, processing.
"I'm sorry," Audrey finally says. "I didn't realize her brother would be back home."
Jay is…honestly he is a little mad. The plan was based on three people being at home, not four. Accounting for where everyone would be was the only way they could start the undertaking.
But, and he deflates at this, there really is no way to predict the unpredictable. Yes, Audrey had kept up a sort of…watch around the house (apparently, a friend of hers lived across the street and had a broken ankle, so was more than happy to keep an eye on things, even if she wasn't willing to enter the fray and actually defend Audrey) but there's a number of ways that Noah's presence could've been missed.
Mostly, he was just scared in the moment. And now that it's over, he is awed.
They did that.
"It's…okay," he says.
Audrey doesn't look satisfied at this. "If you're mad, just say so."
"I am mad," he admits after a second. "But it's irrational. I know you did your best. Plans just go awry sometimes."
Audrey looked at him, ghost gray eyes staring at his face until the tension fell from her shoulders.
"We did it," she murmured.
"We did."
"Oh my goodness, Jay, we did it!" She jumped up from her chair and proceeded to cheer.
And he did mean cheer, as in cheer leading. She clapped in time, and then stomped her feet in rhythm. He watched, fascinated. For a moment, he wondered how she really looked in her element, on the field and performing at competitions. He wondered what he'd have to do to attend one of those competitions.
"Jay, stand up!" He looked at her, quizzical. "You're going to learn this as well!"
Ah. Okay. He stood up and made his way around the table, and stood in front of her.
"Okay, come stand beside me. It'll be easier to mimic my positions if your brain doesn't have to translate which side I'm doing it on." This made some logical sense, so he stood to her side.
"So clap, clap, clap, like this-" she did so, and waited for him to mimic her. He clapped thrice- "And then stomp left three times-" he did- "and twirl once, and when you've made a full rotation, jump and clap!"
He followed her, and then watched as she did the full routine with interruptions, and, clumsily, mimicked her.
"Does this chant have words?"
"Not really! It's not really a routine either, to be fair. It's just something fun I made up. It's good for getting the blood pumping, isn't it?"
"It is fun," he says, utterly focused on getting the timing right. What Audrey does instinctively (or, more likely, after having practiced until it was instinctive), like keeping an exuberant expression on her pretty face, ensuring her feet line up perfectly with her lips, ensuring her turns have military precision…it took extra effort for him to do. But the effort was fun, interesting- Jay was an average amount of graceful but this he could learn.
They mess around a bit more, and Audrey teaches him a little bit about the different positions in cheer-leading (she herself was a flier, and personally thought it was the best because of all the exhilarating jumps), and they moved around until both of them slumped against the sofas in the living room.
"That was so fun!" Jay exclaims, breathing hard. Audrey smiles, toothily, canines showing as she starts laughing.
It peters out as they both stare at the television, still turned off.
"We did it," Audrey whispers again, and Jay smiles this time as well. "Everything has been set into motion."
"Are you happy?"
"Are you joking? I'm thrilled! I'm like, fantastically happy. I'm so happy that it's tipping straight into crazy, so I'm crazy happy."
"I'm glad! And, you know, everything else has been set up as well." Audrey nods, still grinning.
"The math exam–she was actually absent, so Monday is her last make up day for it. She has to come to school. Her grandparents are both already dead, and half the town attended said funerals, so there's no excuses she can really make unless she wants to fake her brother's death. Not to mention, Aunt Liz is kind of a hard ass about these things, she definitely won't let her skip for 'frivolous' reasons."
Every conceivable excuse had been stripped away.
"She'll definitely come disguised," he points out.
"We're not allowed hats indoors until it's winter properly, and while I don't think the teachers will nitpick too much about a student wearing a headscarf, there are ways around it. Some people owe me favors."
Ominous. He didn't ask her for details. Even if it was something questionable, he'd surely find out Monday.
They both fell into a pleasant silence. Jay closes his eyes, warm and comfortable enough that he's an inch away from falling asleep right there.
And then Audrey breaks the silence.
"You're never going to get rid of me now," she says, voice low. He hums, questioning.
"You've helped me so much these last few weeks…you put everything I was feeling into the open and just…fixed it. No! You helped me fix it. That's even better."
"I'm glad I could help you," he says, sincere. "I think you're really fantastic, Audrey."
"I think you're pretty fantastic too, Jay. I'm just telling you that you're my best friend now, whether you like it or not."
"Won't people make fun of you for being friends with a twelve-year-old nerd?"
"Consider this: why should I give a shit about what anyone but you thinks?" She sits up a bit, back straight as a sword.
"I know what everyone said behind my back. I know they spoke shit about me. All my so-called besties and girlfriends and sisters-from-another-mister…where were they when I needed someone to comfort me? All of them were too busy tearing apart my reputation or hers, all of them so caught up in the hot gossip instead of the real facts that I was fucking wounded by the two people I trusted most in my life-"
She turned to him, eyes wide and furious. "All of them wanted to see us tear each other apart, all of them wanted me to claw her eyes out or his eyes out and none of them wanted anything good for me at all! You were the only one who realized…"
Jay reaches over and puts a comforting hand over her now clenched fist. He rolls over his words in his mind, and says,
"I'm sorry you had bad friends. And I'm sorry that you were betrayed like that." She tenses under his touch, and as he moves to pull back, she reaches over and drags him into a hug. He freezes for a second, feeling her warm hands wrap around him.
He hugs back, hesitantly.
"No one else even…acknowledged anything. So. Thank you. Genuinely. I thought I was surrounded by all these people who were my friends but really, when it came down to it, they were worse than useless." She pulled back, before gently patting his arm.
"So that's why I'm saying, directly, that we're best friends now. Even if the prank doesn't play out how I want it to, even if something goes wrong…the fact that you were willing to entertain me and even help me…I appreciate it."
"I had fun too," he protested. "Don't act like I'm making a major sacrifice here. It's not like I had a number of other people to hang out with, either. It's a mutualistic symbiosis."
And here's what Jay is admitting without admitting. Those initial days without any kind of friendship…it was hard. It was beyond difficult. How do you go from a unit, Q-Em-Jay, and become singular? How do you go from a loving, if bothersome community, to a lone wolf? Those first days, he was so silently fraught with the idea of fitting in and blending into the background. He wanted to survive it all, more than actually thrive. Every day he'd go to school and wait until the clock ran down so he could go home, go to Charlie's home, and curl up and think of nothing.
This is what grief has stolen from him. His sense of place and his security. His ability to make connections. Jay in his happiest state is a creature who does not shut up. Losing his mother meant he lost that easy, light affectation. He cannot easily slip back into that conversational person.
But with Audrey, who knows nothing of his grief, who doesn't watch him like a ticking time bomb…
He can be that person again. If only a little.
"I like you," he repeats. "You're an interesting person–I think life is more colorful with you around. You're right. We should be best friends. I adore you, and you adore me."
She grins at him, pleased with his agreement.
"As a friend right," she teases lightly. "You adore me as a friend?"
"I adore you as a best friend," he replies, "and honestly, what better way to like someone than as a friend? What's more important than friendship?"
Romance, he's heard, can steal the air right out of your lungs and make you do stupid, stupid things. Leah is the most awesome (in a biblical sense) person he knows, and even she fell for someone and as a result, sometimes does things against her own ambitious interests. His sisters are apathetic and volatile in measure, and he doubts love is anywhere near their respective radars.
But he knows love in it's purest form, the bond that laid underneath his parents' romance. He knows the sweet way his Aunt Joy used to smile at his uncle. He knows, even, the way Old Man Quil speaks about his deceased wife, the way his craggly face lights up. Love is love in every form.
All this is to say. Romance isn't the air one breathes. What's most important is friendship that feeds and nourishes. Only after friendship, only beyond friendship, is everything else. If you don't like someone, how can you love them?
"Nothing," Audrey says. "Nothing is more important."
They sit there, curled close, both lost in their thoughts.
"I'll tell you this though, I have my own requirements and thoughts on what friendship should be. Recent incidents…having caused that. I've always thought this, but now it's super important to me."
"Hit me," he says, and she lightly taps his shoulder. He startles and laughs.
"You did say hit me," she justifies, and he giggles before calming down.
"You have to be honest with me. Okay. That's my line in the sand. Be honest with me."
He remains quiet, listening.
"That's…a normal part of friendship though?" He murmured. Right? Don't lie to your friends…wasn't that a basic requirement?
"No, but you see. I mean it. I hate liars," she says, something dark on her face. "We're best friends now, so I'll tell you now. I hate liars. I understand that sometimes people don't want to talk about things. That there are conversations and secrets I don't need to know about. But don't walk up to my face and lie through your teeth."
Jay is a liar through and through, but mostly to himself. He gives her words the gravity they deserve.
"I will try to be honest as possible," he says, quietly, like an oath. "I will try to tell you the truth whenever I can. And if I can't say it, I'll say that, so you know I'm keeping something from you."
She nods, tense as a strung bow.
"And you?"
"I-," he begins, swallowing.
He tries again. Her eyes bore into him.
"I hate those who give up," he says. "I hate people who don't try, who are content to wither away. I hate people who walk around like they have one step in the grave." His father. His father, who would not get out of bed. His father, who would not look him in the eye. His father, who loved him and let him go.
His father, who he will one day return to face.
He looks up at her face, and asks, a little desperately, "What's the point of living if you give up?" She watches him.
"Well. I've never been known to quit anything. Even when I maybe should." She reaches upward, stretching. Her eyes are still severe. But they watch him and take his measure, and they lose that sharpness. She must be pleased with what she sees. He hopes she is.
"I mostly lie to myself," he says, after a moment. Audrey stills and smiles wryly.
"Well, everyone does that. I won't hold it against you too much."
She reaches out, pinky held up, and he wraps his around hers. It looks ridiculous. It feels kind of religious. It will hold like an oath.
"I promise," he whispers, and his best friend whispers it back.