twenty-seven
“Sometimes, curse words are the only possible way to express oneself.”- Callisto
Saturday night…
“So… that’s where we are with the plan. Unless either of you are bomb experts, we don’t have any other options,” Leo says, finishing his story. He had skimmed over some of the finer details, but most of it was there.
We’re all sitting in Leo's living room, eating cold pizza as Leo fills Fletcher and Evan in on our plan, or lack thereof.
Fletcher has been listening intently while Evan seems a bit distracted.
They’re sitting beside each other, Evan with a hand on Fletcher’s knee.
Leo wasn’t kidding when he said they are attached at the hip.
I am curious about them, though, since I haven't had the chance to get to know them at all. I know what Leo has told me.
“Yeah. I don’t really have any ideas that you all haven’t already thrown around to be honest. Is there anything Ev or I could do?”
Fletcher asks, gesturing toward Evan. He perks up at the mention of his name, his blue eyes alight once more.
He nods in agreement, so I suppose he isn’t bad.
Maybe he has a lot on his mind. Leo did just give him a lot of information to digest, and everyone processes things differently.
“Not really. Peadar didn’t mention bringing anyone else along. Just… if he asks, say that we invited you over so you could help Daron kill Nico. Be vague. You’re one of the best liars I know, Fletch. I’m sure you can handle it.” There’s a flirtatious hint to Leo’s tone.
I tell myself I’m not jealous. I’m not. I know that Leo and Fletcher are only friends. Leo has told me as much countless times, but something about the way they interact. It grates against my skin. I barely stop myself from placing an arm around Leo's shoulders to lay claim.
“Oh yes. I can definitely handle that,” Fletcher responds, eyes roaming over Leo's body. I have the sudden urge to growl. “We all know I’m a wordsmith of sorts.”
I glance at Evan, his expression mirroring mine so much, his eyes may as well be green with jealousy.
It’s as if Fletcher and Leo don’t even notice it, too busy joking around.
Evan looks angrier than me, as if steam is going to come out of his ears at any moment.
He loops an arm around Fletcher’s shoulders, pulling the other man into his side.
Fletcher starts to go but stiffens when he sees that I am watching them.
Evan frowns but keeps his hand on Fletcher's back.
“Yes. Yes. That’s your favorite phrase.”
The tinkle of Leo’s laughter fills the room.
I kind of hate that Fletcher makes him laugh so easily.
I can make him laugh too, I just… don't.
Not as much at least. We haven’t had a lot of opportunities for laughter given the dire circumstances that have surrounded us from the beginning, but I am sure I could make Leo laugh if the occasion called for it. I’m funny.
“Do you think you’ll get out of this alive?” Fletcher asks, his tone devoid of all amusement. Leo stops smiling immediately, his gunmetal eyes looking past Fletcher as he considers the question.
The mood in the room shifts, the temperature dropping several degrees.
I shiver, reaching for the blanket draped over the back of the couch.
I cover myself up, Leo nudging closer to share the warmth.
I take a bite of the pizza, but it churns in my stomach.
Not because it’s bad, but because the tension is so pliable, it causes my body to have a physical reaction.
“I’m not sure. I’m not worried about myself. Whatever happens to me, I'm sure I’ve earned it. I’m more worried about Callisto. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he survives tomorrow.”
Leo’s response is strong and sure as he looks at Fletcher.
Then he glances over at me, a small smile playing across his lips, but it’s a sad one.
Leo is pretending he’s okay with dying. It’s all a facade.
Leo doesn’t want to die any more than me, however he is willing to sacrifice himself, and I can’t understand why. He doesn't think he’s worth it.
“If it was your last day on Earth, how would you spend it?” Evan asks, blue eyes staring off into the distance, almost as if he sees something that I can’t. He blinks a few times, eyes finally focusing in order to look at the faces around the room, waiting for an answer.
A jolt of shock enters my heart by the question. For the last week, I have had to come to terms with death. No one wants to die, but it’s inevitable. I never expected to know when I would die, though.
“Hmm…” Fletcher starts, glancing over at Evan. “I think I’d want a nice winter wonderland with Ev. We’d go ice skating and then go to see some penguins at the zoo. Evan loves penguins. Then maybe get dinner or a smoothie after.” His hazel eyes are far away, as if living out his last day.
For some reason, I wasn’t expecting something so normal from Fletcher.
The man is sort of intimidating, even though he is about the same height as me and a few inches shorter than Evan.
I think it’s sort of romantic that Fletcher would want to spend the day doing something that Evan clearly loves.
Who would have thought he’s a softie at heart?
“I think I’d just want to spend it with my brother and Fletch. I wouldn’t really care what we’d do,” Evan says, and it almost sounds like a lie, or maybe not the whole truth.
I don't understand why he would ask a question that he’d have to lie to answer.
If the way Fletcher’s body stiffened when Evan mentioned his brother is anything to go by, then it probably has something to do with him.
“What about you, D?” Fletcher asks, as if he wants to change the subject as quickly as possible. I look around, but no one else seems phased by the mention of Evan’s brother.
“Me? Oh. Umm, I think I’d want to find my mom and tell her that I forgive her. I mean, I don't even know if she’s still alive, but I’ve always wondered if the thought of me weighs on her. You know? So yeah. I think I’d want to find her and tell her I forgive her for all of that shit,
then maybe take her to lunch. I just hope she’s not so high that she doesn’t remember me,” Daron answers, his voice sad as he finds a spot on the rug particularly fascinating before he looks up at Leo.
I wasn’t expecting such a serious answer from Daron. He’s always struck me as a bit of a jokester, always making light of sad situations, but we all have our demons. I’m slowly starting to understand that. We all look at Leo, waiting for his response to Evan’s question.
“My turn? Oh. Hmm…” Leo looks at me as he thinks, and I nearly stop breathing. “I think I’d just want to ride my motorcycle. I wouldn’t want to spend the entire time thinking about how it’s my last day. What about you, Cali?”
I take a second to think about the question. “I think I’d just want to paint. I find painting relaxing, and I love the creativity it brings. So yeah, I think I’d just paint something heartbreakingly beautiful.” I can’t stop my gaze from finding Leo, imagining exactly what I’d want to paint.
Then all eyes are on Nico, waiting for his answer.
Nico’s eyes are downcast, a red tinge on his cheeks as if he’s embarrassed about what he’s getting ready to say.
My curiosity is piqued. In the past week, I have gotten to know Nico.
His likes, dislikes, and hobbies, but I don't feel like I know him enough to be able to guess what his answer will be.
Nico looks at all of our waiting gazes and clears his throat.
“I would like to go to a soccer game. Doesn’t matter what team. My mom was a huge fan and would watch games all the time, so it would feel like I’d be spending my last day with her,” Nico answers, his voice small.
“How old were you when you lost her?” Leo speaks up, his voice soft.
I want to hug him for it. He’s so kind, even though he himself can’t see it.
He cares so much about the people in his life.
He may not give a fuck about the drug dealer he beat up a couple of days ago, or the rapist he murdered, but he cares about his friends.
All I have ever wanted was someone to care about me, and Leo does.
“I was ten. She committed suicide. As a kid, I didn't understand why she would choose to leave me. I still don’t. She was a great mom. I remember her so well. I was adopted pretty quickly by a really nice family, so I feel lucky in that way,” Nico tells us, his eyes shiny with unshed tears.
He sniffles, clearly trying not to cry in front of us.
Hearing the story, I almost cry, myself.
I had no idea of the trauma that Nico had gone through.
That must have been so difficult for him. I couldn’t even imagine.
“Maybe that’s why I couldn’t find any information on you,” Evan says, and I think it was meant to be more to himself. We all look in his direction, and his cheeks flush red. He smiles shyly, and Fletcher shakes his head, smacking him on the knee.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound rude. I’m really sorry for your loss.”
Evan gestures, an apologetic smile pulling at his lips.
“That must have been so fucking rough at such a young age. What I meant was that, when we first kidnapped you guys, I couldn’t find any information about you. Like nothing. It was so strange because I can usually dig up whatever I want. It was almost as if you didn’t exist before you turned 18.”
“Yeah, that’s weird. I swear I existed, though. Maybe it does have something to do with the adoption. My adoptive parents are very private, so yeah. Maybe they asked for it not to be in public records or something. That could be it,” Nico says, with a shrug.
“Hey. There’s a New England Revolution match on! Let's watch it in honor of Nico’s mom. Was she a fan?” Leo suggests, his eyes lighting up at the idea.
“Big fan.” Nico’s smile is so wide, I can see his wisdom teeth. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile so big and so unfiltered.
I can’t stop my own expression from mirroring that of my friend’s as my gaze finds Leo’s. Instead of Leo getting up, Fletcher detangles from Evan. He grabs the remote, turning the TV and finding the game before he goes into the kitchen to get Evan more pizza.
We spend the next hour and half watching the game, the rest of the men all shouting at different plays and when flags go up.