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The kids that woke up early for school in Java discovered a new, white-painted world, a scenery change that told them there would be no school that day. The snow that clumped smoothly on the ground was blank for now, but soon it would be dotted with sunken gray footsteps and monolithic snowmen. Furball looked over the snow-covered yard. He sat in the middle of Ty’s bed, the blankets wrapped around him, trying his best to keep the warmth in. He could feel the cold of the basement in his ears, and he burrowed down further into the blankets. It was early, too early for anyone else but TJ to be up, and he was long-gone to work. Furball sulked, sniffing the sleep out of his head, and he planned his next move.
Furball crawled to the edge of the bed and peered over the side. Ty and Bryan were curled up together, a blanket pulled loosely over them. Furball watched a moment, smiled, and moved back to the center of Ty’s bed. He didn’t remember falling asleep here. The night before was patchy at best, and everything past Nowhere was out of focus. Nowhere. He shuddered. He wished he could change everything that had happened the night before. He wished he hadn’t broken down in front of Ty. He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the blankets around him, trying to make the world go away.
For a while, all Furball could hear was the central heat and the blood pounding away in his ears. This wasn’t helping. He crawled off the bed and padded out into the basement. He found a spot on the couch and curled up, and stared at the ceiling until he forgot where he was. He wanted to sleep, but he was far too awake now. His stomach growled, letting him know that he should be eating. He didn’t want to. He let himself go numb.
Bourbon’s door opened, but Furball didn’t hear Bourbon leave his room. Furball learned how to move quietly around his house, how to sneak into the kitchen, open the fridge and make a sandwich with out so much as his parents suspecting that he was anything but sleeping. He figured Bourbon knew how to just as well as he did. Stairs, though, those were a problem. A moment later, Bourbon emerged from the bathroom, the blue fur on his head wet and messy. He looked in on the TV area.
“You’re up early,” he said. He looked tired, but there was something else, too. His shoulders were down, his ears hung heavy against the side of his head. He looked injured.
Furball sat up. “Yeah.” He didn’t know what to do, but he wanted to fix Bourbon, to make him feel better. It was a longing he didn’t quite understand yet.
Bourbon yawned and sat down next to Furball.
“So…” he said. “I talked to Ty a few days ago.”
Furball turned away. His ears dropped. “Ohyeahreallywhatabout?”
“You doing any better?”
“I’m fine.” He folded his arms across his chest.
“You sure?”
Furball narrowed his eyes.
“’k fine.” Bourbon turned away and stared at the empty TV in front of them.
“I’m sorry.” Furball said after a moment. “I’m just frustrated, ‘cause… just…”
“Ty told me what happened last night.”
Furball clutched his stomach. He stifled a whimper.
“No, it’s a good thing,” Bourbon said. “If anything, they’re the best to do that in front of. They really do care about you. They see you like-”
“A little brother. I know.” The calico sulked.
Bourbon opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked away from Furball. “I… I sometimes wonder why they like me.”
Furball looked up at him, his eyes narrowed. “Seriously?”
Bourbon jumped. The calico spoke, but it was almost Ty’s voice, the same “you’re an idiot” tone and everything. Furball was learning.
“I… yes?”
“Think about all the times you’ve had to ice down your hand, all the hours you’ve spent in detention, just for Farly. Add all those up and you’ll understand.” Furball turned, and whatever part of Ty had inhabited him left. “We’re both pretty stupid, aren’t we?”
Bourbon ruffled the fur on the calico’s head. “Pretty much. You hungry?
“Not really.”
“You sure? I’ll make you breakfast.” He raised his eyebrows and smiled a little.
“Like what?”
“I can make the best fucking bowl of cereal you’ve ever had.”
Furball folded his arms again. “Boooo. You suck.”
“Yeah, well, too bad. Take what you can get.”
Bourbon got up off the couch and climbed the steps to the kitchen. Furball watched a moment, then followed, his stomach complaining the whole way.
[g]
OOHH that made me laugh. “I can make the best fucking bowl of cereal you’ve ever had.”
also, that was too short. I want more.
Yeah, sorry about the shortness. Everything from here on out is pretty much on a fixed schedule, so what you get is what you get. I’m working on getting Project 2 updates up to about 2000 words per update.