Chapter 100
- Evan -
She was putting on an act to bring smiles to everyone's faces. She went to the dressing room and tried on different suits, most of which were silly or ugly. Was something on her mind? Was it us? Was she worried about us? I think so.
After we returned home, I got Kaysi to bed and laid her down, following the tragic moment she doesn't remember. Kaysi grabbed my arm and had a hard time letting me go. Even without her memories, she seemed valuable in that moment. Seeing the crack through her broken shell.
Josh walked past me slowly, taking careful steps. I could tell his arm was bothering him. He tried to keep it loose and natural down by his side. But the tension in his shoulder betrayed him.
James dropped his bag, and a bottle of water rolled out onto the floor.
Both Josh and Becky bent to grab it.
Their hands were but an inch from touching at either end of the bottle.
Josh, without thinking, moved too quickly. His prosthetic arm pulsed with light, a sharp flare that only I could see from where I stood. He winced and straightened up with pain. Trying to force back his reaction unsuccessfully.
Becky rose slower. She looked up at him, just for a second. Not with anger, just tired and heavy.
"Take it easy, seriously," she whispered as if no one would hear them. "You're not a machine."
Josh didn't respond as she walked away.
Their interaction cut me like a knife. Even from across the store, I could still see and hear everything.
It was snowing harder by the time we left. Big, soft flakes fell in lazy spirals from the sky. We walked under the overhang outside the mall, the awnings dusted in white.
Kaysi ran ahead, spinning in a slow circle. She looked up at the sky like it was trying to talk to her. I love the snow.
Becky said she reacted like this once before when they were walking through the park. Memories or no memories, Kaysi's spirit still remained the same.
I lingered behind the group. Looking up at the sky, I was lost in my own thoughts, and they were loud again.
Josh is breaking, and Becky is lost and disheveled. Kaysi has forgotten everything, and we almost lost her and Josh again. And I'm supposed to be the one who keeps them together and leads them. How can I when I can't even...
SMACK!
A large snowball hit me in the face.
I blinked. Cold ice pieces melted quickly as water slid down my neck and chest.
Kaysi's voice rang out: "You were zoning out again! That's my self-defense!" She said as she had her hands in the air in defense.
Micah whooped. "Ooo...she hit Evan! Oh, it's on now."
Josh let out a small, genuine laugh. I turned slowly, packed a snowball, and nailed it square in Josh's chest.
He stumbled backwards as his boots slid on some ice, losing his footing. He fell flat on his back. Right in a pile of snow, as it slid off the awning and dumped snow on his head.
He wheezed out a laugh, sitting up with snow in his hair, his new white sliver of hair now matching with the rest of his head.
Becky smiled and let out a small hehe under her breath.
Not a big smile, but it was there.
Kaysi lobbed one at James. He yelped and tossed his smoothie in the air.
"I couldn't leave you out; this is war!" She shouted.
And that was it.
Snowballs erupted, flying every which way. Micah screamed something about vengeance, I am guessing for James' sake.
James dove behind a trash can. Kaysi hit me again. Becky just stood there, letting the chaos happen around her. But she wasn't walking away anymore; she stayed and watched.
I laughed. Honest and complete, and from somewhere deep down, I thought I had lost.
For five minutes or so, nothing else mattered; we lived in the moment.
Right now, we weren't broken. We weren't lying to each other.
We were just...together.
And maybe that was enough.
Thank you, Kaysi. Even in your own darkness, you could hold the light for me and others. Kaysi helped me see that.
Snow was melting faster now. Slush lined the roads, pooling in the cracks of sidewalks and catching tire spray like oily glass. Even after the events of yesterday, something in the atmosphere felt indifferent. The city appeared to be preparing for an impending event.
Josh and I passed three loud yellow construction trucks on the way to school. They were out of place being in this small part of town. They growled past us with the kind of authority only machines seemed to possess.
"That wasn't here yesterday," I muttered.
Josh said nothing, but she nodded, narrowing his eyes at the new metal fence going up along the community park.
By the second period, word had spread. There was a land development proposal. The city council, backed by the governor, wanted to rezone half the south district for retail and private contracts.
Kaysi was the first to pull up the article. She had her phone out in the hallway between classes, showing it to Micah and James.
"Translation: Goodbye, nature trails. Goodbye, mom-and-pop shops. Goodbye to the parts of town that actually meant something to people." James implied.
"They're demolishing Bellridge Hill and Spencher Ball Park," Kaysi said, stunned. I used to go there as a kid. That's also where the overlook is; you can see the whole city from there."
Micah's jaw tightened. "They've been trying to get rid of that area for years. Developers always said it wasn't profitable enough. The governor sees this place like a big Monopoly board. My uncle's bakery also sits on the edge of that zone."
Josh looked at me. "We should say something. We should put a stop to this."
"We don't even know their full plan yet. For right now, they are saying more plans for the city are underway."
Becky appeared beside us, clutching a copy of the flyer someone had passed out as she got to school.
City Beautification Economic Renewal. Invest in a modern future.
She read the words like they were a rotten taste in her mouth.
"They're not even hiding it. All the information we need is here." She continued. "They're selling our town like it's a half-priced auction item.
After school, we all ended up going to Uncle's bakery for warm pastries and the chance to study as we regrouped. The place was alive with the smell of cinnamon and fresh breads, and even though tension clung to our shoulders, it melted a little as we stepped inside.
Micah disappeared behind the counter to help restock shelves while Uncle handed out mini tarts and hot cider. Becky and Kaysi were off duty, but that didn't stop them from bussing some of the tables and lending a hand. They are pretending not to hover over the new limited edition maple cinnamon rolls we sampled at the fall festival. Even James had a stool in the corner, quietly sipping tea as he worked something out on his computer.
This place—it wasn't just a bakery. It was a safe haven for us and the locals. A week full of noise gave us a moment to breathe. The atmosphere was always calm here.
Uncle wasn't just Micah's; he was everyone's. He may not be our blood, but he adopted us, and we adopted him. Over time, he became something more to us.
A steady hand. A warm laugh. The man behind the bakery, where many of us worked at one time or another. He lived above the shop in a small apartment. Shoot, most of Micah's family works here and runs it alongside him. Becky and Kaysi helped out when they needed some extra cash or on weekends and holidays, using their downtime.
He treated us like family, all of us. I even caught James sneaking a muffin from time to time. Uncle didn't mind, as James would volunteer to work in the kitchen from time to time. I think that was his way of paying off his debts, though Uncle never said a word.
Many people felt this place was a home away from home.
When people were down on their luck, they came to Uncle for his words of wisdom. He taught them, and they would teach him.
Uncle overheard us trying to come up with a plan; he came and sat at our booth, talking with us.
"The governor's planning a visit next week," he said, arms crossed as he leaned back in his seat. "To walk the grounds and survey the current changes that have begun. The city council is going to roll out the red carpet."
Josh tensed beside me. "So what do we do? Protest?"
Uncle shook his head. "We do better. We remind them who lives here, what this land means to us. They've forgotten this place is part of our heart and soul."