you can call me dottie hangleton — this is my quiet little corner of the internet, a secret side-blog tucked away for thoughts, rambles, and creative storms about the long walk.
Came on here to say I’m almost done with my exams, and so I’ll be able to write again! It’s been so long since I’ve posted a chapter of my TLW fic Ray and Lottie, and I want to know if people are still willing to read / are interested in the story so I can determine whether or not to finish it off! Be honest please 🙏🏾
Absolutely no pressure whatsoever, but are you doing okay? I just wanted to check in, I noticed you haven’t posted in a while and wanted to make sure you’re doing okay.
Oh this is so sweet 😭💕 I am absolutely fine! I’m just in exam season, which will end sometime next month — I’ve got quite a bit of the next chapter of my fic down, but I’ve been so busy I haven’t had time to write. Hopefully I will soon, but I am alright!
The Long Walk is obviously a very sad movie, but I think the saddest thing about it was the fact that William Garraty’s hate for the system and the Major was stronger than his love for his wife and son.
Summary: Ray and Lottie talk about the future. Anthony makes a tough decision, and his relationship with Lilith is put in peril.
Click here for previous chapter
Word Count: 16, 213
Warnings/Tags: sexual innuendo, vanilla sort of kink from Ray, reference to racial discrimination, racial tension, gavries! semi - graphic description of a Walker’s death, internalized homophobia (?) strong language, alcoholism, nausea and vomiting, mental breakdown of a character, reference made to sexual violence, depiction of a victim of sexual assault, use of language pertaining to sexual violence, said sexual violence is not depicted but is referenced to only.
It should also be noted that this fic takes place in the year leading up to the movie. It is, for the most part, a prequel.
A/N: exam prep has been killing me, I’m sorry I took so long on this chapter, literally had a breakdown at school from studying stress… kill me now Ray Garraty style please. Jokes aside, love you all. I feel like this chapter is boring (save the end, because thats… intense). But I think the overall tone of the fic will be shifting now. It’s getting to the darker phase, and subsequently to the end. I won’t tell you how many chapters are left, but it’s not many — enjoy :)
CALL TRANSCRIPT
Recording ID: BRG -19-8842
Date: 28 March 1968
Time: 10:17–10:30
Originating Number: ██████████
Receiving Number: Baton Rouge General Hospital Main Line
Recording Source: Administrative Call Logging System [TRANSFERRED TO THE MAJOR’S WALKERS RECORDS]
IMPORTANT NOTE: This is a recording of [REDACTED]. You must gain permission from the State to view this transcript. Failure to do so will result in immediate deactivation. Sharing this unauthorized will result in immediate deactivation. Glory to the Major and his regime.
⸻
CALLER:
U-uh, hello? Hello?
RECEPTIONIST:
Good morning, this is the main desk of Baton Rouge General Hospital. How may I help you?
CALLER:
I’m, uh… I’m looking to get some information on a patient. He was admitted not too long ago.
RECEPTIONIST:
Can you provide the patient’s name?
CALLER:
Uh… Pete. Peter. Peter McVries, yeah.
RECEPTIONIST:
One moment.
[00:00:41 – Hold music]
RECEPTIONIST:
Thank you for holding. Can you also confirm the patient’s date of birth?
CALLER:
U-uh… 7th November, 1954…?
RECEPTIONIST:
Are you sure of this date?
CALLER:
Look, uh — to be honest, I don’t really —
RECEPTIONIST:
That date is incorrect. What is your relationship to the patient?
CALLER:
Oh, shit. Well, I’m a family member.
RECEPTIONIST:
The patient you mentioned is an orphan, and he does not have any surviving family members.
CALLER:
Oh. [PAUSE] Well, I —
RECEPTIONIST:
I’m sorry, but I can’t disclose detailed medical information without proper authorization.
CALLER:
Look, I’m the person that got him help, alright? I’m the boy that found him slashed in the woods. Anthony Green, that ring a bell?!
[Pause – 3 seconds]
I’m not asking for details, I — I’m just worried. I really hurt — I mean, he looked really scarred up when I found him, and it’s been eatin’ at me. I need to know if he’s okay. If Pete’s okay. He’s mighty young, and I… I just need to know his condition. Please.
[Pause – 5 seconds]
CALLER:
Are you still there?
RECEPTIONIST:
The patient is currently stable.
CALLER:
Stable how?
RECEPTIONIST:
He is alive and under observation.
CALLER:
Is he conscious?
[Pause – 5 seconds]
RECEPTIONIST:
I’m not authorized to answer that.
CALLER:
Please, I just need to know — I’m begging you. I need to know that he’s okay.
RECEPTIONIST:
You may contact the attending physician during visiting hours.
CALLER:
Just — [SIGH] — Just tell me, please. Tell me he’s awake. That’s all I need to know. I won’t bother you ever again, Pete won’t see me ever again, I just want to know.
RECEPTIONIST:
As I said before. You may contact the attending physician during visiting hours.
CALLER:
I’m usin’ my last bit of money on this call. I won’t be able to call again till next week, and I won’t get someone as gracious as you then.
[Pause – 3 seconds]
Please.
RECEPTIONIST:
[PAUSE] He is conscious, stable. Barely so. He has been bandaged appropriately.
CALLER:
Oh, thank God.
RECEPTIONIST:
Do you wish to visit the patient?
CALLER:
No, I just wanted to know how he was doin’. Thank you. Thank you so much. I, uh… I left some money for him with the hospital.
RECEPTIONIST:
Yes. That is in our records.
CALLER:
Will you give it to him?
[00:03:56 – Line interference]
CALLER:
Hello?
[Pause – 7 seconds]
RECEPTIONIST:
The money has been transferred to McVries’ bank account. He will get access to it when he is of age.
CALLER:
Great, great. It’s not much, but… yeah. [PAUSE] You won’t tell him I called, right?
RECEPTIONIST:
If that is what you wish.
CALLER:
Thank you. [PAUSE] Goodbye.
RECEPTIONIST:
Goodbye, Anthony.
⸻
End of Recording
Total Duration: 04:09
Transcript Prepared By: Louisiana State Health Services Records Division
Notes: Call logged in compliance with hospital communication policy. Transferred to the office of the Major for examination. No further information disclosed.
***
The Walkers, by this point, were nearing a hundred miles.
Pete and Ray, by this point, had not spoken for two hours.
Ray would look sideways at Pete, who had eventually gone back to the latter’s speed and walked next to him without speaking, and then look away. As soon as Ray would look away, Pete would look at him as well. It was a sort of silent stalemate. The other boys had been mostly quiet. Harkness’s death still hung over them, like a filthy, miserable cloud they couldn’t get rid of. Ray, through all of this, still clutched Lottie’s hankie in his right hand. He wished Pete would talk to him.
“…hey.”
Ray blinked, looking at Pete, who was already looking at him. He had a sort of unreadable expression on his face, like he was torn between crying and punching something. Ray reckoned he would most likely do the former.
“Hi.” Ray breathed out back. Pete allowed himself to smile, but it dropped as he swallowed. Ray straightened up a bit, readying himself to listen as they walked on.
“Look, about the —“
“Don’t worry about it, Pete.” Ray replied, shaking his head slowly.
“No, Ray, I should —“ Pete rubbed his face, unable to look Ray in the eye for long. “What I said back there, talkin’ about your — askin’ you to —“
“Relax, man,” Ray said lowly, offering him a shaky smile. Pete looked out of breath, all panicky and wide - eyed. His pants came in little huffs and sighs. Ray hadn’t noticed that before, but it was something he paid much attention to now.
“No, Ray.” Pete shook his head. “I shouldn’t have said that shit to you. It was…” he sighed. “It was out of line.”
“We’re in a death march, Pete.” Ray muttered back, nudging Pete gently with his shoulder. “This whole thing’s out of line.”
What Ray had done to Lottie had been out of line.
Ray blinked then, shaking the sudden thought out of his head and sniffing. “I forgive you. There’s no hard feelings, we all get a little… y’know.”
“Yeah,” Pete nodded, looking somewhat relieved. “Yeah, I — I didn’t mean all that, you know?”
For some reason, the thought of Pete not really meaning the offer to jack Ray off sent a pang through his chest, and he pursed his lips before looking back forward. In front of them was a smaller Squads halftrack, and as Ray looked around a little, he noticed they’d made it into a small town. It looked like they’d leave in the next ten minutes or so — it was incredibly rural. A road (the one they so leisurely strolled on) split it into two halves, the shops run - down and dilapidated. Ray scowled at a police officer saluting the Walkers from the side of the road.
He then glanced to the Walkers in the far front, noticing Percy’s skinny figure walking particularly fast.
“Hey, he looks springy,” Pete muttered to Ray, and the latter nodded. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he —“
“Give yourselves due kudos, boys!” The Major’s gruff, booming voice interrupted Pete’s line of speech, and Ray’s eyes flicked to the previously unoccupied halftrack. The Major looked as crisp and clean as ever. “Let’s hear it! You made it 100 miles, that’s a goddamn accomplishment!”
Ray stared at the Major, his right hand trembling with silent rage, gripping Lottie’s hankie tighter. Pete stared at him sideways before speaking.
“Ray, why’re you always starin’ at the Major like that?” He whispered, leaning in slightly. “I don’t know if you wanna screw him or shoot him.” He joked, but it fell flat. Ray didn’t respond, his eyes boring into those dark sunglasses. The Major never looked any of the boys in the eyes, that was something that Ray had noticed — he seemed to always look through them. Above them. Beyond them. Anywhere but at them.
“Ray —?” Pete tried again.
“It’s nothing, Pete,” Ray muttered, his eyes sliding to the landmark painted to the side of a building. ‘100 MILES’ is what it read. “Nothing.”
“Keep on. The prize awaits.” The Major completed. Ray’s eyes slid back to him, a sudden chill creeping over his body, an itch he needed to scratch.
A carbine he needed to sh—
“I mean, how the heck he always look so fresh?” Art piped up, drawing Ray out of his line of thought. “He even human?”
“It’s not a trick.” Stebbins replied — Ray glanced at him, realizing he looked… sickly. Nothing like the sturdy, smug boy they’d all met at the drop - off. His blonde, shiny hair looked a little tousled, his eye bags a little more prominent. “The Major sleeps at night, after supper.”
Ray spared a glance to the doorway of an abandoned looking building — a young black boy, a leg amputee, stood there. Ray stared at him. He stared back at Ray, his eyes empty and morose. A crutch propped him up. He would never be able to compete in the Walk, Ray realized, continuing to stare at the nameless boy. He had missed out on that opportunity for the rest of his life. And yet Ray envied him more than anything. He wanted to tell him it wasn’t what it was all cracked up to be, that there was no reason to be miserable. But he could not. So he walked on and pursed his lips and looked away, those eyes still in his mind. They looked scornful. Accusing, even. He didn’t know why.
Stebbins sneezed suddenly, startling Ray and causing Pete to look back with him. He wiped his nose quickly, not meeting the other two’s eyes.
“You gettin’ sick, Stebbins?” Ray asked softly.
“Oh, wouldn’t you like that, Garraty?” He replied scornfully. “Just allergies. I get ‘em every spring.”
Ray was about to reply when there was an uproar from the front. Barkovitch was yelling.
“Oh, SHIT!” He shouted with glee. “He’s running for it!”
The ‘he’ in question was Percy, who had decided to make a dash for a nearby diner.
“Warning, number 31.” The voice from the halftracks called out, not listening to Percy’s frantic pants as he ran, not caring that his eyes were wide and terrified, and that they stayed wide open as his body was riddled with bullets. His body made a grotesque jerking motion before falling through the diner’s windows, glass shards spilling everywhere as his blood stained the panes. Ray stared at his body silently. With each passing death, he was reacting less and less. He’d barely known Percy. He wish he’d tried to talk to him, if even a little, but life went on. He felt like crying.
“Whoo!” Barkovitch whooped, smiling to himself. Pete was staring at his back, face twisted in quiet anger. “Fuck, man, that just woke me up.”
“I rue the day they gave birth to that motherfucker, I swear to god.” Pete whispered to himself. Ray didn’t respond, staring at the gravel.
***
Around three miles later, the boys had left the town Percy had died in, and walked amongst the countryside. The trees and greenery were vast and empty, but Ray thought he saw a deer a little far off. When he tried to squint at it, its ears twitched, before leaping off.
“I like deer,” Pete said, and Ray looked at him, raising his eyebrows. “Reminds me of someone I met when I was younger.”
“Really?” Ray replied. “Who?”
Pete smiled, but it was wry, a small smile, and to himself. “Not important.”
Ray furrowed his brow at Pete, questioning, but Pete gave him a look that told him not to pry. They were getting good at reading one another. In sync. Each other’s keeper, comfort, whatever you call it, when you didn’t count Lottie. Fuck. He could always count Lottie.
“Whoo!” Art Baker said suddenly, drawing Ray out of his reverie. “Boy, I’d kill for a foot massage right now.” Ray grinned at him, and Art smiled back before continuing to speak. “If I win this, I swear to god, I might be tempted to use my wish for a foot massage right there on the road.”
“You serious, Baker?” Ray smirked, arching his brow at Art. Art shook his head, smiling, his dark skin damp with sweat.
“No, man. Of course not.” He replied. “I’m asking to have one of them, uh… what you call ‘em?” Art hesitated, thinking for a moment, before finally remembering. “One of them space rockets.”
“Huh.” Ray huffed out a laugh. “Interesting.”
“Yeah, those space rockets will take me to the moon.” Art nodded, looking all dreamy. “I’ve always wanted to go to the moon. Anywhere’s better than here.”
“Hey you know, that’s not a bad wish, Baker,” Ray said, as Pete threw a pebble at Collie, who playfully caught it. “Remember that one kid that, uh, well, he wished for, uh… I think it was a pet elephant?”
Art snapped his fingers, pointing at Ray. “Yeah. Yeah, and they gave it to him.”
“Uh - huh.” Ray said absentmindedly. He thought of another wish. Two, to be exact. One that was his, and one he’d been informed of. One that someone else, long ago, had tried to make. His chest felt tight and he pushed the impending memory away. Another day. Not now.
“They brought it out with a saddle and everything, and he just.. rode it home,” Art said, slightly breathless.
“Yeah.” Ray breathed, blinking a bit faster than usual.
“They really will give you anything you want,” Art continued. “That’s why I’m asking to go to the moon.”
Ray thought it was a sweet dream.
“I’m gonna wish for ten naked ladies.” Hank Olson deadpanned then.
Ah, never mind.
“Oh, shit,” Pete laughed, his eyes squinting. Ray’s chest twisted as he glanced at him, and he looked away quickly, face burning. “There he is. I thought we lost you.”
“Well I’m fine.” Hank replied fairly, still limping, sort of. Ray started to laugh as Pete chuckled behind him.
“The fuck you gonna do with ten naked ladies?” Pete asked, still laughing.
“Uh, you said you were gonna be nice, McVries,” Hank replied, referring to an argument they’d had that morning.
“That’s a stupid fucking wish, Olson.” Ray snickered, looking at the floor as they all walked on.
“How is that a stupid fucking wish? W-what, are you fruity or somethin’?” Hank asked, sparing a glance back at Ray — the latter laughed before shaking his head.
“No, that’s not the point Olson — man, you know I have — had, a girl.” Ray replied. “All I’m saying is that when you win, you get like a gazillion dollars! You can pay for ten naked ladies to come over to your house whenever you’d like!” He threw his arms out, as if to solidify his point. “I personally prefer one particular naked lady, if you know what I mean —“
“Man, shut the fuck up.” Pete laughed, and Ray threw up his hands in surrender.
“The point is,” Ray continued, after a beat. “When you win, you should wish for something that you can’t pay for.”
“What?” Hank huffed, rolling his eyes. “No, man, I don’t wanna have to fucking pay for my naked ladies, that’s gross.”
“Hey, you do realize that if you get your wish, someone’s gonna have to pay the ten ladies to get naked for you, right?” Pete reminded Hank plainly. Hank fell silent.
“Mhm.” Ray hummed, nodding — he then remembered Lottie might be watching and stopped, opting to whistle instead.
There was a long beat of silence as Hank stared at the gravel, still walking all off - kilter. “Okay, I never thought about that.”
“No, you didn’t.” Pete nodded, smug.
A soldier’s walkie - talkie relayed some indistinct message and the boys listened, though they couldn’t hear a word. Pete looked at Ray and Ray looked at Pete. Upon making eye contact, the two boys smiled, and looked away from one another.
“What would you wish for, McVries?” Art asked, after a long beat. Pete thought for a while.
“I had a wish for a long time.” Pete answered finally. “For years, actually, but… I’ve changed my wish in the last couple days.” He paused, and Ray waited for the rest of Pete’s wish. “From now on, I’m gonna wish the Long Walk has two winners.”
Ray grinned to himself.
“‘Cause then… then in years to come, people can have hope that maybe their… friends just might make it.”
Friends, Ray thought. The word felt wrong, at least in this context.
“Ah, they’ll never allow that shit.” Hank said plainly, shaking his head as he chewed on his gum.
“Well, hell if I don’t try.” Pete huffed, a little scorned.
“That’s beautiful, Pete.” Ray said softly, turning to him momentarily. Pete’s face warmed.
“Oh, fuck off, man.” He replied, trying to laugh it off. But Ray looked serious.
“No, I’m not fucking with you, I’m dead serious.” Ray raised his eyebrows. “That’s really fucking goddamn beautiful. You sound like my favorite author.”
“And who might that be?” Pete asked, but before Ray could answer, Hank spoke up again.
“I still think ten naked ladies is a fucking no - brainer.”
“Oh, Jesus.” Ray replied, laughing softly.
“What about you, Garraty?” Hank asked then.
Ray didn’t respond for a moment, a disjointed memory pushing itself into his head, like a cassette tape you only had one, really fucked up frame of, all fuzzy and discolored and hard to make out. A microsecond of a noise, something that sounded like a loud BANG, and Ray had pushed away the memory once more, filed it away safely.
“Uh…” Ray swallowed, trying to keep his voice steady. “No, I’m not saying.” Hank looked back at Ray, mock - offended, and Ray simply shrugged in response. “It’s like a birthday wish, Y’know?”
“Oh, come on, man.” Art said, shaking his head and smiling.
“What?” Ray replied, his voice cracking as he began to laugh. “I’m not tryna jinx it.”
“Come on, Garraty, come on.” Art pressed. “Look — you already told us about the Lottie character—“
“My girl.”
“—your former girl,” Art continued. “And your moms — you ain’t got a single wish concernin’ them?”
Ray didn’t answer.
“See, the chances it’s gonna be you, or any one of us, for that matter, is slim to none. So what’s the harm?” Art said, choosing not to press on Ray’s silences.
“Chances are getting better and better…” Ray yawned in response, before stretching. “And you know, I’m feeling pretty good today, so…” Ray skipped, and Pete let out a low whistle.
“Oooh!” Pete whooped playfully, and Ray nudged him before going on. “Look at you.”
“There you go.” Ray replied archly. “But uh, I don’t know, how many of us are left?”
Barkovitch, who was walking ahead of the other boys, scowled.
“Well, one, two, three, four, five, six… there’s around fifteen, probably — I don’t know.” He remembered he and Lottie’s first class in algebra, and smiled to himself. “Never really was that good in math, but hey — I’m pretty sure those are no longer bad odds!”
Collie made a sound that sounded close to a laugh, while Pete looked out at the greenery in silence.
“This ain’t enjoyable at all anymore.” Hank said after a long moment, still walking all haphazardly. “There’s no fuckin’ flavor.”
Ray screwed his face up in disgust. “You talking about the piece of gum?”
“Oh, God.” Pete groaned, shuddering. “Spit it out, man.”
“That’s so gross.” Ray added, shaking his head.
“Oh, what can I say?” Hank replied dryly, limping on. “I’m a superstitious motherfucker. I got this feeling in the depth of my gut. As long as this gum lasts, so do I. When she goes, I go. We gotta make it through this thing together, me and the gum.”
“That’s as beautiful as it is disgusting, Olson —“ Ray started, before Art started to shake his head.
“No, no, no.” He called out, raising his eyebrows. “Don’t change the subject now, Garraty.”
“No, I’m not.” Ray huffed out a laugh.
“You ain’t for the money, right?” Art continued. Ray simply smiled wanly back at him. “Give us a nibble. What you here for? Is it about your —“
“Listen, I’ll tell you this.” Ray interrupted, before Art could say your girl. His voice had hardened. “I want my wish to change things. To help people. You know? Maybe stop this whole thing altogether.”
So it’d never hurt anyone ever again.
“You can’t wish for things that cause changes in a state’s policies and procedures —“ Hank started, and Ray sighed loudly, rubbing his eyes.
“Oh my God, Olson —“ Ray groaned.
“—that’s rule number —“
“That’s not what I’m talking about, my man, I’m just saying, I’m not wishing for something to change.” Ray said plainly. “My wish, if I get it, might enact change. You know, indirectly.”
“Fuck are you hiding, Garraty?” Barkovitch piped up, and Ray sighed. “Ain’t these supposed to be your best fucking friends?”
“Ain’t you supposed to be licking concrete by now?” Ray shot back, mimicking Barkovitch’s voice. “Fucking racist.”
“Don’t fucking —“ Barkovitch started.
“Hey, shut the fuck up, killer, huh?” Pete snapped, and Barkovitch glared at him. “Go find your own circle, man.”
“Hey, gotta be careful saying that kinda stuff out loud, man.” Art said to Ray lowly, after a beat. Ray looked at him, and saw he looked worried. “The Major have you shot for talking about ideas like that.”
That millisecond of cassette film flashed through Ray’s head again, that loud BANG—
“No, I know.” Ray said quickly, and quietly — he swallowed, staring at the gravel and blinking back tears. “Just, um…” he attempted to smile. “I don’t know. I figure, within the next two days, I’m either going to be dead, or the winner.”
He wasn’t sure he wanted to be the former or the latter. Lottie’s eyes passed through Ray’s mind, and he tried to muster a smile. It was hard. But maybe he could do it. Win. Make things right. Make everything right.
“Might as well speak while I can.” Ray completed. Pete stared at him for a beat, and then smiled.
“You know, he’s right.” Pete nodded. “You know, you right, Garraty.” He looked in thought for a moment, as Ray grinned back at him.
“Fuck the Long Walk.” Pete breathed. Ray grinned even wider, if that were possible.
“There you go, Pete.” He replied, laughing.
“Hey… fuck the Major!” Pete added, getting more heady by the second. Garraty was loving it.
“There you go!”
“Fuck the Long Walk!” Collie yelled from ahead, pumping his fist. Peter whooped.
“Hell yeah, Collie!”
“Fuck the Major!” He completed.
“Come on, Baker, what you got?!” Pete close to skipped, and Art shook his head, smiling to himself. “Come on, I know you want to!” He urged — Art relented.
“Screw the Walk, man.” He said.
“Fuck the Walk!” Pete yelled back, swearing like he’d only just been allowed to.
“Screw the Walk.” Another boy joined in.
“Yeah, screw the Walk!” Art repeated, confident this time.
“There you go, man.” Ray sighed.
“Guys, guys, come on.” Hank fretted from the front, looking back.
“Oh come on, Olson, don’t be a fucking pussy now!” Pete replied, throwing his arms out.
“The Major isn’t a smart target.” Stebbins spoke up, his nose runny as he sniffed. Pete looked at him incredulously.
“Fuck the Major!” Collie yelled.
“Fuck the Long Walk!”
“Oh, shit, Stebbins,” Pete panted, his eyes alight with glee. “Well, he gon’ have to fuckin’ shoot me. Is that what he gonna do?”
Stebbins stared at him.
“Fuck the Long Walk!” Pete yelled again, before turning around.
“Yeah, fuck the Walk!” Ray hollered.
“FUCK the Major, and fuck those fucking soldiers!”
“There you go.” Ray smiled, looking around, looking at all the boys rising out of their stupor, all to relish in their shared hatred for the cursed Walk.
“Yeah, FUCK the Long Walk!” Hank finally yelled, still limping, the boys around him yelling variations of the same sentence, everyone’s spirits lifted, even if for a second, a fleeting moment of true camaraderie in fucking hell.
Tressler, the boy with dreadlocks, had been fiddling with his radio — with a grin, he raised it into the sky for all to hear the music that played — it was surely banned, but he had it. ‘My Eyes Are Getting Heavy’ by Parish Hall blared over the boys, their shouts of protests blending with electric guitar, with the rebellion of it all.
“Fuck the Long Walk!”
“Fuck the Walk!
“Screw this shit!”
“Fuck yeah! YEAH!”
“Fuck the Major!” Ray spat.
“Fuck it all!”
“There you go!” Ray shouted again, feeling all stupid and happy and free and lightheaded, and just for now, it felt like he was home again. Pete was beside him, laughing, hand on his shoulder — he never wanted it to leave there, never wanted this moment to end.
Stebbins, who’d been watching everyone silently, began to smile to himself, imperceptibly — a blink and you miss it sort of grin.
***
Lottie’s eyes fluttered open as the morning sunlight filtered in through Ray’s bedroom window, bright and stifling — she scrunched up her nose, wincing — the pain from she and Ray kissing so hard that their noses crashed into each other the previous night remained. Lottie touched the bridge of her nose with the tip of her finger, featherlight, and winced again. She felt like she’d almost broken her nose.
Did they really kiss that hard? Christ.
She then stretched, yawning, her body a little sore. Ray’s thick patchwork quilt covered her in warmth, and she took a moment to look at Ray’s room. It’s not like Lottie hadn’t been here before, she had. But she liked to look at it.
Posters of baseball players were plastered all over the wall next to the window, the edges slightly worn and torn, having been there for years, probably. The window itself was open now, and Lottie struggled to remember when either of them could’ve opened it during the night, since it had been raining cats and dogs. His floors were mostly clean, save for Lottie’s panties lying some ways away, discarded ever so unceremoniously last night. Her face burned at the memory. For some reason, he hadn’t put that piece of clothing in his laundry basket with the rest of the other clothes.
He had his bedside table, the one with a cracked mirror and a picture of him holding a baseball when he was about ten years old, William’s hand on his shoulder as he pumped a fist. Little Ray seemed to be yelling in triumph, along with his father, his mitt hand held midair. Lottie allowed herself to laugh — not too loudly, however. The thick arm wrapped around her middle and hugging her to a bigger, warmer, and currently snoring body told her Ray was still fast asleep. She shifted a little, cozy in one of his tees, the ones that were bigger than her, warm and comfortable and smelling like him. Lottie wasn’t small, but Ray’s shirt made her feel like she was.
“Wear one of my shirts, in the meantime,” he’d said last night, after he and Lottie had dried off. They were brushing their teeth in the mirror, Lottie wrapped in one of the spare towels (the one she’d brought had been dampened by the rain) and Ray’s towel wrapped around his hips.
“I can wear one of my nighties, easy.” She’d replied, spitting out some toothpaste and looking at him.
“They’re probably all wet.” Ray replied, spitting out his toothpaste and glancing at Lottie.
“Mmm, not all.” Lottie replied, after a few moments of brushing.
“The rain was pummeling on your bag.”
“I feel like you just wanna see me in your clothes, jumper.”
Ray’s shoulders sagged. “…yeah.”
Lottie stared at him for a moment, and then smirked. “Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“Okay, I’ll take it.” She laughed. “I just like teasin’ you.”
“Oh?”
“Keep your thing under control, we just finished.” Lottie raised her eyebrows, and Ray laughed as she bent over and rinsed her mouth out. “Besides, I’ll need something warm, and you’re bigger than me… easy fix.”
Ray’s face colored then, but he didn’t look ashamed as Lottie kissed him. After what they’d done, he felt like he could never be ashamed again, not around her. She grinned up at him, wrapping his arms around his middle, and he kissed her nose.
Now, as Lottie stretched and rolled over to face Ray, she yelped, rolling off the bed in one fell swoop — he’d been wide awake, staring back at her.
“Holy shit, Lottie —“ he fretted, moving to the edge of the bed. Lottie lay spread - eagled and ashamed on the hardwood floor, staring at the ceiling. “—are you okay?”
“Of course I’m not — why were you so quiet?” Lottie replied, still not looking at Ray. The latter let out a laugh, covering his mouth as he looked down at her. “I thought you were sleepin’, jumper… this is so embarrassin’—“
Ray rolled off the bed then, landing next to Lottie with a thud. She laughed as he landed face - first, shouting a stream of expletives as he turned to her, rubbing his nose.
“Fuck, Lottie,” he whispered, his eyes squeezed shut as he continued to rub his nose. “I feel like Ben punched me all over again, holy shit. What —“
“It was from yesterday, I think,” Lottie started, reaching over and gently pulling Ray’s palm away from his nose. She then pulled up his hand, letting it hover midair, before placing her palm against his. Ray wordlessly interwove his fingers with hers, staring at her staring at their hands. “…we kissed too hard.”
“We kissed too hard.” Ray repeated, amused. Lottie’s eyes flicked to his, and she smiled.
“You don’t sound too upset about that.”
“Why would I be?” Ray replied. “I’d rather get my nose broken kissing you than breaking it from being socked in the face.”
“Very sweet of you,” Lottie let go of Ray’s hand, shifting closer to him. “Real sentimental.”
“Yeah?” Ray chuckled.
“Yeah.” Lottie nodded, tracing a circle on his shoulder. He took ahold of her waist and pulled her closer, and Lottie buried her face in the crook of his neck. They were on the floor together, legs all tangled, arms hugging one to the other. Ray’s hair was all messy and sticking up in odd places. Lottie had wrapped her hair in a silk scarf she’d brought, her hair braided into cornrows underneath. One was all crooked and funny - looking because Ray had volunteered to help her braid her hair before bed.
“You don’t know a single thing about braidin’ my sort of hair, jumper,” Lottie had laughed, sitting cross - legged with him on the bed, his eager eyes lit from the candles. “You’ll mess it up, I — oh, don’t look at me like that.”
“What? I might as well learn now,” he’d shrugged, leaning forward. “Please?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Pretty please?” Ray clasped his hands together, leaning in. “I’ll follow your directions, I promise.”
“Ray…” Lottie had trailed off when she’d seen those big, stupid brown eyes. “…fine.”
“Yes!” Ray pumped his fist.
The result had been a wonky - looking (but mostly good) looking braid. Singular, because Lottie had only let him do one.
“Oh come on,” he’d sighed as she did the rest. “Practice makes perfect.”
“Practice on somebody else’s head.” Lottie had replied archly. “And anyway — that’s payback for you going all slow earlier.”
Now, Lottie asked: “Why’d you roll off the bed, anyway?”
“I didn’t want you to be alone in your embarrassment.” Ray shrugged. “Besides, I like being close to you.”
“Oh.” Lottie smiled, kissing Ray. “You’re sweet. But the floor’s hard.”
“So am I.” Ray replied, his voice cracking as he stretched. Lottie rolled her eyes, shifting — then she let out a gasp.
“Oh, Lord.” She smacked her forehead. “Max!”
“What about her?” Ray replied, concerned.
“I was getting sugar from you because the Bennetts had run out, remember? I was meant to have a sleepover at her place! And I left her and her Ma there… all worried…” Lottie clapped her hands over her eyes. “I’m such a bad friend, Ray. I didn’t even call her, I didn’t even —“
“Hey, hey,” Ray said quickly, taking Lottie’s hands away from her eyes. “It’s okay, you can just call her now. She’ll understand.”
“Understand that I abandoned her to —“ Lottie made a vague motion with her hands, all flustered. “Oh… I feel horrible. And to think I didn’t even remember till now.”
“Was it that good?”
“Ray!” Lottie smacked Ray’s shoulder as he laughed, his chipped tooth showing. “This is serious!”
“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” He said, as his laughs died down. “But don’t worry, really. Max won’t kill you.”
***
“I’m going to kill you!” Max’s voice crackled over the rotary phone in the Garraty’s foyer, and Lottie winced at the volume of her voice.
“Listen, Max —“ Lottie started, wrapping the cord around her index finger as she shifted from foot to foot. She was still in only Ray’s shirt, it being so long it reached just above her knees. She wore nothing underneath. “I’m sorry, okay? I should’ve called you earlier.”
“Damn right you should’ve!” Max shot back. “Do you know how worried my mom was? She was up almost all night! She kept debating going out and finding you —“
“I really am sorry, Max, I promise.” Lottie pressed, as Ray clattered about the kitchen. “I’ll make it up to you — “
“Bobby and Alex kept popping their heads out of their houses!” Max steamrolled over Lottie’s apology, fuming. “Everyone was worried about you, and you didn’t even call — did you manage to get to your house? Whose phone are you calling from?”
Lottie sighed. “Max—“
“No, you at least owe me this!” Max yelled. “What held you up so much that you couldn’t return? It certainly wasn’t your place, because it’s too far, and Bobby —“
“Max still upset?” Lottie close to jumped out of her skin as Ray sidled up behind her, and she placed a hand over the mouthpiece of the telephone as Max continued to rant.
“What’re you doin’ here?” She hissed, though there wasn’t much malice in it. “I thought you said you were going to fry the eggs!”
“Yeah, but…” Ray shrugged, hugging Lottie from behind. “I missed you.”
The nerve of him. Doing that now.
“Hello, Lottie!” Max’s tinny voice protested from the phone, and Lottie hurriedly pressed her ear to the receiver.
“…yes?”
“Are you even listening?!” She yelled, just as Ray started to bury his face in Lottie’s neck, nuzzling her. She let out a subtle, shaky sigh.
“Yeah, uh…” she blinked rapidly. “Max, I really am sorry, I’ll come over later today and —“
“No, you won’t!” Max yelled, just Ray pressed an open mouthed kiss to Lottie’s neck. The latter cleared her throat as she leaned into it, closing her eyes, before trying and failing to swat Ray away. “I think my mom would take hours kneeling at your feet and thanking God that you’re in one piece, despite cycling off like a maniac into the —“
It was then that Ray decided to slip a hand under Lottie’s shirt, his rough fingers rubbing against her stomach. Lottie swallowed, taking a deep breath.
“—are you listening?!” Max yelled, and Lottie’s eyes were squeezed shut as she nodded, Ray’s hands creeping further upward.
“Yeah, I… oh, Christ, give me a moment.” Lottie placed a hand over the mouthpiece, before whirling to face Ray. Ray was grinning down at her, like he’d been doing nothing wrong.
“What’re you up to, jumper?” She hissed. “I’m tryin’ to apologize to Max, and you’re just here, feeling me up!”
“I can’t help it.”
“Help yourself to the kitchen, Raymond.”
“Okay, okay —“
“Lottie!” Max’s tinny voice called out once again. Lottie sighed before uncovering the mouthpiece once more, pressing the phone to her ear. “If you have something else to do, you can quit gracing my presence and just —“
Lottie didn’t hear the rest of Max’s sentence — with a swift grab, Ray had taken the phone, and Lottie’s eyes grew wide as she tried to swipe for it.
“Hey, Max.” Ray said groggily, dodging one of Lottie’s attempts to grab the phone. “Lottie’s fine.”
“Who is this?!” Lottie could hear Max’s voice, even from where she stood. “I’m talking to —“
“It’s Ray, Max.”
The line fell silent for about five horrifying seconds. Lottie buried her face in her palms as Ray waited for Max to say something.
“Can you hand the phone back to Lottie, please?” Max asked, her voice sounding funny.
“Yeah, okay.” Ray replied with an adorable chuckle — Lottie almost forgot she was mad at him as he handed back the phone, grinned at her, and went back to the kitchen. Lottie shook her head at him before clutching the phone to her ear, waiting.
Radio silence.
“Max — ?”
“You two had sex.”
It was said like a statement, not a question, like Max already knew the moment she’d heard Ray’s voice. Lottie hung her head like she’d been caught with her hand in a cookie jar.
“Max —“
“You two had sex.”
“Just —“
“You two had sex.”
“Can you —“
“You two had —“
“Yes, okay?!” Lottie yelled finally, frustrated. “Yes, we did! It happened! Big whoop!”
“It is quite a big whoop, actually.” Max sighed, and Lottie could almost see her rubbing her face. “Wow. Um. It didn’t even take a couple days. Had it even been twenty - four hours since your parents left when you — oh, god.”
“Ha - ha.” Lottie said flatly. “Very funny.”
“You really did go and get some sugar, huh?”
“Max!”
“Sorry.” There was some crackling from Max’s end, and Lottie bit her lip. “…was it good?”
“Oh my —“
“What?” Max replied, shaking her head in her own foyer as Mrs Bennett went about her morning duties. She lowered her voice as her mother passed. “Did you use any of the stuff in the book I gave you?”
“I’m not discussin’—“ Lottie glanced at Ray frying eggs in the kitchen, whistling. She lowered her voice. “I’m not goin’ into detail about what transpired last night.”
“Oh, come on,” Max sighed, leaning against her wall. “You at least owe me that. Had us worried. Seriously.”
“…I really am sorry, Maxine.”
There was a long beat of silence. Lottie tapped her foot gently, pursing her lips.
“It’s okay.” Max said finally, and Lottie let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “Now my mom can go about the house in peace, you’re unharmed, so. I’m glad you’re safe. Just… don’t do that again, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I care about you. A lot.” Max swallowed. “I love you, you know that.”
“Yeah.” Lottie smiled. “I love you too.”
“The Squads, they could’ve… you know.”
“I know.”
“I’m just scared for you.”
“Don’t be.”
“But I will be,” Max sighed, and Lottie laughed. “Now. Enough dramatics, let me know how it went down.”
“Max!” Lottie giggled, sparing a glance to the kitchen.
“Was it big?”
“Can you stop — in width, yes, in length average, but—“
Max whistled. “Good deal. Did he know how to use it?”
“And what if we’re bein’ monitored on this call right now?”
“The State doesn’t really care about two girls talking about sex, not too much at least.” Max shrugged, and Lottie laughed again. “Now, did he know how to use it—“
“He knew how to use that and his tongue, that’s — look, we can talk about that in person later, alright?” Lottie shook her head, grinning stupidly. “Among other things. I have a new writing idea, not romance, and we need to brush up on studying before school reopens—“
“Yawn.”
“Just because you’re so smart,” Lottie replied, “doesn’t mean we shouldn’t sit up more. Plus, it is our final year.”
“Your words of wisdom bore and irritate me.” Max said. “But you’re right. It’s better described in person, anyway — I’ll see you later. And don’t do that shit again.”
“I won’t.” Lottie grinned. “Bye - bye.”
“Bye, newly non - virgin Lottie. Don’t forget to take the pill.”
There was a click, and the call had ended. Lottie placed the phone back on the cradle, before stretching and padding to the kitchen. Ray was whistling to himself, frying eggs on the pan.
“What’re you makin’?” Lottie mumbled, leaning on Ray’s shoulder. His face colored at the contact, and he cleared his throat before speaking.
“Well…” he poured a few chopped - up vegetables onto one side of the egg, which had now fully set, and flipped the other side onto it. “I’m trying to make omelettes for us.”
“Oooh,” Lottie rolled her shoulders and wiggled her eyebrows, and Ray laughed. “Chef Garraty, look at you.”
“Shut up,” he said in between chuckles.
“No, I mean it,” Lottie insisted, watching as Ray placed the newly finished omelette onto a plate. “I think it’s sweet you’re making me breakfast. You’re a darling man.”
“I think I’m actually kinda lucky here,” Ray reached for three more eggs, his t - shirt shifting — Lottie’s face warmed as she saw a hint of his happy trail, and looked away, fiddling with her fingers. “I’ve only watched my mom make omelettes for us before, and this is my first time doing it myself, so.”
“You don’t cook?”
“Oh no, I do.” Ray spared a glance at Lottie, and saw she was watching the egg set on the skillet. She had a slightly flushed look about her, all refreshed, though she’d only brushed her teeth.
“What do you make?”
“To be honest, it’s kinda limited, so.” Ray laughed again. “Don’t judge me too much.”
“Never.”
“I, uh…” Ray looked in thought for a moment. “I love soup.”
Lottie turned to him, arched a brow. “Soup?”
“Hey, you said you wouldn’t judge.” Ray pointed the spatula at Lottie, and she laughed.
“Okay, okay… anything else?”
Ray’s face reddened further. “Not particularly.”
“Oh, sweet.”
“You make me feel like a duckling sometimes, you know.” Ray pointed out. “Sweet and round and stuff.”
“But you are sweet and round and stuff.” Lottie mumbled, hugging Ray from the back and rubbing his tummy. “My strongman.”
“Oh, stop that, it tickles.” Ray giggled.
“M’kay.” Lottie whispered, pressing a kiss to his back. “You smell nice, though.”
“Thank you.” Ray replied, putting the other omelettes onto a plate. “Y’know something I’d like to learn how to make, though?”
“What’s that?”
“Pho.” Ray said thoughtfully, going to the fridge. “It’s a Vietnamese dish, kinda like soup with noodles, and chicken.” He took out a carton of orange juice, setting it onto the counter as Lottie looked at the now blown out candles, the wax pooled around the bases. “I think I’d like it, but there’s not many people in Maine who’d know how to make it, and Alex is Korean, so no luck there.”
“You can always learn it if and when you move out of Porterville,” Lottie said, drumming her fingers on the kitchen island. She looked deep in thought.
“Yeah,” Ray replied, huffing out a laugh as he poured out the orange juice. Lottie stared at his back.
“Would you?”
“Would I what?”
“Move out of Porterville?” Lottie elaborated. “After high school, I mean.”
Ray didn’t respond at first, bringing he and Lottie’s omelettes to the island and blowing air out of his cheeks. “Move out, move out, move out… well, that’s a silly question, I think.”
“Why?” Lottie took the cup of orange juice he offered to her, taking a sip.
“Because.” He shrugged, standing adjacent to her and leaning on the table. “You clearly want to leave, and I’ll go wherever you go.”
“Hmm.” Lottie swallowed the juice, grinning at Ray. “Very smooth.”
“I did want to leave, though, even before you. You’ve just pushed that urge even more.” Ray shrugged. “We don’t have to plan where just yet, but… you know.”
“Yeah?”
Ray hummed. “Yeah. Like I said, still planning things.” He paused. “What did Max say?”
“She knew almost immediately,” Lottie sighed, embarrassed again. “She’s okay now, though. I promised her I wouldn’t do it again, and I’ll try and make time to see her.”
“Great.” Ray said cheerfully, his mouth filled with omelette and cheeks flushed.
“Ew.” Lottie laughed. “Swallow your food before you talk, jumper. That’s nasty.”
“You wound me.” Ray swallowed. “But uh, until you go to Max’s — what do you want to do today? Our parents won’t be back for another couple of days, so.”
Lottie looked deep in thought. “I’m not sure, you know. I’d be okay with whatever.”
Ray scoffed, but there was no malice in it. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“That thing where you go all like ‘I don’t mind what we do, you choose’ and then you end up minding what I choose.”
Lottie laughed. “I don’t do that!”
“But you might, so pick. Or I’ll pick for you and we’ll have to stick with it.” Ray raised his eyebrows. Lottie shook her head.
“I’m curious as to what you’ll pick now.”
“I warned you.” Ray held up his hands in mock - surrender. “I might suggest we take a long walk around town or something.”
“Anything but that.”
“Okay, okay, okay…” Ray drummed his index finger against his chin. “…you still don’t know how to drive, right?”
***
“This is stupid.”
“Hey, I warned you.”
After Ray and Lottie had taken a (suspiciously long) bath together, they had both dressed up, got to the driveway, unlocked William’s car (he and Ginnie had walked to the train station, choosing to leave the Garraty car behind) and Lottie had begrudgingly sat in the driver’s seat as Ray sat in the passenger’s seat.
Ray had opted to teach Lottie how to drive.
“C’mon, you need to know.” Ray said, as Lottie sat cross - armed in the driver’s seat. “You might not drive a lot, but it’ll be mighty useful to you one day.”
“I’m not mad about learnin’ to drive, jumper, I’m mad because I might end up damaging your Pa’s vehicle.”
“Oh, pssh.” Ray waved the worry off. “You’re completely safe while I’m here.”
Lottie stared at him.
“Okay, maybe this isn’t completely foolproof, but I’ll take full responsibility if anything happens — hey, don’t make that face, it’ll be fun!” Ray threw out his arms. “Look — I’ll even show you this sweet feature that it has, wait a minute.”
Ray hurriedly got out, leaning on the side of the car. Lottie rested her hands on the steering wheel and watched him lazily as he started to struggle with something on the roof. He looked like he was trying to yank something off.
“Jumper?!” She called from inside. “You need any help?”
Ray peeked in through the window, his face a little pink. “No, it’s just— ah, fuck — it’s just a little rusty, Lottie, don’t worry.”
“Rusty?” Lottie said to herself. “What exactly is—“
The rest of her sentence was lost as she heard a groaning sound from above her — the roof of the car was retracting, and Ray stood proudly as he watched the sky open to her. Lottie let out a little gasp.
“It’s a convertible.” She breathed.
“Yep!” Ray smacked the side of the car, before wincing a bit and holding his hand. “It’s a drop - top, but it only goes if you start pushing it yourself, the button hasn’t worked since I was ten. Now we have more air.” Ray made a motion with his hands. “Makes it more scenic, don’t you think?”
Lottie grinned as Ray got back in the car, and kissed his cheek. He blushed.
“Yes, I agree.” She responded fairly. “Now.” She gripped the steering wheel. “Teach me how to drive.”
“Oh - kay!” Ray clapped his hands together. “Now, first you’ve got to start the car.”
“Is this a manual or…?”
“No, an automatic,” Ray answered, looking intently at the dashboard before looking back at his girl. “Now, look down, in the feet area. See that?”
Lottie looked down, and saw two pedals. “Mhm.”
“Those are the brake and gas. Left and right, respectively.”
“Okay, got it. Do you want me to —“
“No, no, don’t press your foot on anything yet,” Ray said hurriedly. “You need to know all the parts first — see this?” Ray pointed to a joystick - looking instrument on the console. PRNDL was printed across. Lottie felt stupid for never asking Robert or her Pa what those letters stood for.
“That’s the gear selector. Very important, allows the driver, which is you in this case, to select the transmission mode. Y’know what the letters stand for?”
Lottie slowly shook her head, face on fire.
“That’s okay, baby. It’s Park, Reverse, Neutral, Drive and Low - Gear.” He furrowed his brow. “I don’t think we’ll need to use low - gear now, but it’s worth telling you it’s for climbing up steep hills. Park is self - explanatory, as is reverse and drive, but Neutral breaks the connection between the engine and wheels — I don’t think we’ll use that today either, it’s only for when your car’s getting towed.”
“Noted.” Lottie gripped the steering wheel tighter. Ray looked at her for a moment, and then smiled a bit.
“You scared?”
“No.” A beat. “…maybe.”
“Don’t worry.” Ray pressed a kiss to Lottie’s cheek. “You’ll be fine, You’re smart. Now, to start the car — put your foot on the brake.”
Lottie hesitantly obeyed, pressing down.
“Great. Now, turn the key…”
Lottie turned the key in the ignition, her hand trembling a bit. The engine roared to life, startling her. Ray laughed.
“‘S’not funny, Raymond!”
“I’m sorry, it’s just—“ Ray saw her facial expression and laughed harder. Lottie rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry! I really am! I’ll stop, okay?” Ray cleared his throat, straightening his face. “Look.” He pointed at himself. “Not laughing.”
Lottie stared at him. He let out a snort, and she turned away, muttering under her breath.
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I really am.” Ray was still giggling. “Now release the brake. Slow - ly.”
Lottie gently took her foot off the brake, and Ray nodded.
“Switch the gear to Drive. Now, press on the gas, gent —“
Ray’s sentence was cut off by the sudden lurch of the car — Lottie had pressed down much too hard, and he almost got thrown out of his seat.
“It’s all right, just don’t step on the gas too hard.” Ray replied, as Lottie put on her seatbelt. He followed suit, and Lottie gently pressed on the gas, turning onto the road.
“That’s right,” Ray said softly. “Easy on the gas.”
“Mhm.” Lottie hummed stiffly. Ray cast her a sidelong glance.
“You’re gripping the steering wheel too hard.” He commented. “Relax.”
She gave him an incredulous look, before slowly, softly, relaxing her grip. The road was mostly empty. The morning air dried the sweat on the back of Lottie’s neck. Ray leaned over and turned on the radio — a lady sang her heart out over the crackly speaker, but it had been set to low volume and wasn’t a bother.
The sunlight filtered through the trees as Lottie drove at a moderate speed, only startling slightly when a pickup truck zoomed past.
“There you go,” Ray said, looking at Lottie’s profile. She was beaming. “You’re a natural.”
“Thank you — oh, shoot.”
They were a bit too close to the shoulder, the gravel crunching.
“No, it’s okay — this is a sack of nuts and bolts, it always drifts a little.”
“What if I hit a pedestrian?”
“You’re not gonna — hey. Calm down.” Lottie looked over at Ray, and he gave her a reassuring smile. “I can take over if you want, you don’t have to — LOTTIE, EYES ON THE ROAD—!”
The blaring sound of a truck’s horn made Lottie scream and swerve the car violently, causing Ray to bump his head on the passenger’s window.
“Oh, fuck - !”
“Christ Almighty, jumper, are you okay?” Lottie’s foot pressed on the gas even more in her panic, and the car went faster.
“No, I’m fine — SLOW DOWN, THERE’S SOMEONE ON THE — !”
Lottie swerved, barely dodging Mrs Morrison, who was hobbling peacefully across the road. She panted, her curls all in her face as she let her foot off the gas and drove at a normal speed again. Ray panted, his face red and full of shock, while Lottie pursed her lips.
“That was… that was good.” Ray said hoarsely, after a few long moments.
“No it wasn’t.” Lottie’s voice sounded choked. “I’m a terrible driver.”
“What?” Ray said, sitting up and brushing his hair out of his face. Lottie’s eyes stayed strictly on the road this time. “Sweetheart, no you’re not.”
“I almost ended that old lady’s life, and could’ve possibly ended ours.”
“Well…” Ray swallowed, and Lottie slumped. “Yeah, but —“
“This was stupid.” Lottie huffed, turning onto another road. Ray watched her quietly. “‘S’all so stupid.”
“Lottie.”
Lottie ignored him, pressing her foot on the brake when they got to a traffic light, waiting for it to turn green before pushing on. “I really wish we hadn’t done this.”
“Hey, you just did a turn almost seamlessly!” Ray threw up his hands. “That’s real progress, I couldn’t do that for a while.”
“You’re noble.”
“I’m honest.”
Lottie sniffed, and offered Ray a smile before turning back to the road. After a while of silence, Ray started to relax, leaning back with his arm out in the open window, the wind ruffling his ginger hair.
“You were scared.” Lottie commented, and Ray glanced at her.
“I was not.”
“Yes you were, jumper, and there’s no shame in it.” Lottie shrugged. “I did almost kill us all. You should be afraid. Be very afraid.”
“Are you referencing something right now?”
“I don’t think so, no.” Lottie replied cheekily. “But you were scared to death.”
“Maybe a little,” Ray replied, and Lottie giggled. “But you’re getting the hang of it pretty fast. You’re a natural.”
“Thank you.” A pause. “We should probably pass by the pharmacy, though.”
“What?” Ray asked, blinking.
Lottie looked at him. “I need the pill.”
“Oh.” Ray nodded, still not quite understanding. Lottie raised her eyebrows at him. “O-ohhh. Yeah, uh. Sorry about that.”
“About what?” Lottie replied.
“I should’ve…” Ray fumbled a bit. “I should’ve had one on me.”
“I would’ve been a bit offended if you had protection on you, anyway.” Lottie laughed, and Ray smiled. “Woulda given me the impression that you expected… that to happen.”
“I didn’t,” Ray huffed out a laugh. “I thought you were supposed to have some big conversation before, but it just — y’know.”
“Well,” Lottie stopped at a streetlight, waiting. “I guess we’re having it now.”
An elderly man passing by gave them an odd look — a Black girl driving a white man’s car was certainly a new sight to him. Lottie, upon seeing him, rolled her eyes.
“Asshole.” Ray muttered, giving him a mean look in return. The man, affronted, hobbled off with increased speed as Ray looked back at Lottie. She was looking out at the road.
“If we’re having it now,” he started, cautious. “I wonder… you always hear me talk about us getting married.”
“Mhm.” Lottie hummed, keeping her eyes on the road as they passed the green light. Ray reached over and placed a hand on her thigh.
“D’you think I mean it, though?” He asked, running his hand up and down her thigh, rubbing it with his thumb whenever he stopped.
Lottie glanced at him. “Do you?”
“‘Course I do,” Ray shrugged. “Not now, ‘cause we have school, and we need to know what we’re actually going to do after, where we’ll go, but… I wanted to know if you wanted to. Y’know.” He swallowed. “Get married.”
“Why would you ask that, Raymond?” Lottie laughed, but Ray was serious.
“I don’t know, it’s just… every time I bring it up, you sort of laugh it off, like you don’t think I’m serious.”
“Eighteen year old guys don’t tend to be serious about a lot of things,” Lottie replied, unable to meet Ray’s eye.
“What, you don’t think I’m a serious person?” Ray asked. Lottie laughed nervously.
“When did I say that?”
“You kind of implied it.”
“I didn’t —“ Lottie shifted again. “Jumper, I never said that, nor did I imply it.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“What question?”
“The question I’m asking, the one I asked thirty seconds ago.” Ray swallowed. “Every time I bring up getting married, you just giggle and brush it off.”
“You’re getting worried over nothin’.”
“No, I think it’s a valid question.” Ray said, looking in mock - thought.
“Don’t do that.” Lottie said, turning onto some other derelict road.
“Do what?”
“You’re bein’ bratty.”
“Ha - ha.” Ray said.
“Look, stop,” Lottie said, firmly, as they passed by a group of kids. “We’re not arguin’ over something as stupid as this. You want an answer to your question, right?” She swerved again, and they were on some street no - one really lived on, a street where the houses were old and abandoned and they were all alone. Lottie didn’t know how she’d gotten there, and she stomped on the brake — they both jolted as the car lurched to a stop.
The couple said nothing, panting slightly.
“How do I turn off this —“
“Just turn the key.”
Lottie obliged, and the car stopped running. It was a cloudy day. Summer was over. She turned to Ray, who was already staring at her.
“The reason —“ she squeezed her eyes shut, like she was debating whether or not to really answer Ray, to continue to be open and raw and exposed like this, like she had last night. “The reason is, I’m scared.”
“Scared?” Ray breathed.
“Scared.” She repeated, her voice shaky. “Fuck, Ray, don’t tell me you don’t see it.”
Ray didn’t reply. He knew what ‘it’ was. That mask. How it had fallen and would never come back up again, not after last night. She was open to him. She was being open with him.
“I see it.” He said quietly. “Saw it.”
“Right. Look, I —“ she blinked a bit quicker now. “I’m scared that you’re makin’ empty promises. I’m scared that I’ll have all this hope of marryin’ you just for you to end up leavin’. I know it’s low, and I know you wouldn’t do it, not ever, but that nagging fear, it just fucking eats up at me every time you bring up the future, and I… I thought that if I didn’t put all my hope into it, if I just laughed and brushed it off, then it wouldn’t hurt as much if you did, in some cruel fuckin’ twist of fate, end up leaving me.”
“Leaving you?” Ray asked, shaking his head. “Lottie, I would never… could never…”
“I know, but I just — I never thought my brother would… run away.” She said the last part uncertainly, like she didn’t believe what she was saying either. “But he did. So what if I — lord, Ray, I don’t know if I could survive you —“
“You won’t have to think about surviving that, because I’m not Anthony, and I’m not leaving you.” Ray said, taking ahold of Lottie’s hands. She nodded, blinking even more, and Ray realized she was trying not to cry. “I’ll stay. I want to stay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Ray nodded. A tear rolled down Lottie’s cheek, and he kissed it away.
“Um. I didn’t expect driving lessons to turn to this.”
Ray laughed. “Me neither.”
“But I do want to.”
“Want to what?”
“Marry you.”
Ray’s eyes widened slightly, then went all squinty when he grinned.
“Groovy.”
Lottie snorted, holding her stomach as she laughed. “Groovy?!”
“Yeah.” Kissed her. “I think it’s groovy. Lottie Garraty has a nice ring to it.”
“Hmm. I might hyphenate.”
“You wound me.” Ray chuckled, and Lottie relaxed in her seat, letting the wind tickle her face. He watched her for a moment before speaking again. “I know this is out of the blue, but…”
“Shoot at me, jumper.” Lottie turned to him. “I’m an open book.”
“It’s a valid one, after last night, but... do you ever wanna have kids?”
“Oh,” Lottie widened her eyes slightly. “We goin’ real far into the future now.”
“You don’t have to answer.”
“But I want to.” Lottie replied fairly. “Um… lord, do I want to have kids?” She looked in thought, before smiling. “Do you?”
“I mean…” Ray shrugged, huffing out a laugh. “Yeah. I wouldn’t mind it. I used to, uh… babysit people’s kids a lot.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Ray smiled, a little bashful. “I was good at it. I was good with kids. I am good with kids.”
“Why’d you stop?”
“Mom wanted me to focus more on brushing up on algebra, and kids kept ripping up my homework or throwing up on it, so.” Ray shrugged. “It was good fun.”
“Raisin’ a kid isn’t just good fun though, jumper.”
“I know.” Ray thought of his late younger brother, Jeff. “There’s risk.”
“It’s hard.” Lottie nodded, looking up into the sky. It was a little less cloudy now. “Especially since he or she would be y’know. Mixed.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothin’.” Lottie said plainly. “But, you know people. They might be picked on.” She looked at Ray. “They’d just struggle. With fitting in.”
“There’s always places they can fit in.” Ray shifted. “There’ll always be people that’ll get drawn to them.”
“You think so?”
“I got drawn to you,” Ray shrugged. “As did Max, and Bobby, and Alex. Alex a bit too much for my liking, but —“
“Ray.”
“Alright, sorry.” Ray chuckled. “Point is. ‘M not saying it’ll be completely easy. There’re people that spout bullshit about mixed people not being ‘normal’, and that being enough reason for couples like us not to exist, but…” Ray clutched Lottie’s hand, before bringing it to his lips and kissing it. “I think they’ll be ok. Especially if they’re anything like their mom.”
Lottie beamed.
“So.” Ray looked straight at her. “To answer my earlier question. Do you ever want kids?”
Lottie looked back at Ray for a long moment, and then smiled again, a small, content one. “After a couple bestsellers, why not?”
Ray squeezed her hand. “After a couple bestsellers.”
“In the two - story house.”
“In that two - story house,” Ray repeated, nodding. “All off in the countryside, where it’s quiet.”
“I do like quiet.”
“You weren’t very quiet yesterday.”
Lottie punched Ray in the shoulder as he laughed, before rolling her eyes and running her fingers through his hair.
“And if we have a baby,” Ray continued after a moment of silence, smiling to himself. “I hope they look just like you. I’m no looker.”
“Shut up.” Lottie raised her eyebrows. “Not true.”
“Alright, but —“ the rest of Ray’s sentence was cut off as Lottie pulled him in by the collar and into a kiss, and he responded by kissing her back, hungrily. She pulled back, and Ray’s eyes were still mostly shut, his breaths coming in little pants. Lottie smiled to herself.
Absolutely whipped.
“You liked that, huh?” Lottie teased. Ray opened his eyes, giving her a look.
“C’mere,” he muttered, and Lottie obliged, passing over the console and straddling Ray. He looked up at her, reverent, as she tucked a coil behind her ear. Slowly, he let those big hands clutch her waist and pull her in closer.
“Careful,” she said slowly. Ray started kissing her neck, making sounds against her skin. “We’re outside.”
“I noticed,” he breathed, moving up to her face and kissing her cheeks. “Street’s abandoned, though.”
“Ha - ha.”
Ray grinned, before kissing Lottie on the lips. She let her arms rest on his shoulders as she kissed him back, slowly, gently — Ray kissed harder, hugging her closer, like he never wanted to let her go, clutching her soft body to his—
“Ow!”
Lottie drew back, a little surprised, her fingertips at her lower lip. Ray looked up at her, mortified. Lottie simply flushed a deeper reddish brown, letting out a surprised laugh.
“You bit me, jumper.” She breathed.
“Oh, my God.” Ray buried his face in his hands as Lottie began to laugh. “Charlotte, I’m so sorry.”
“Ooo, how forward of you!” Lottie held her face, fake - swooning. “I never thought you could be so rough with me, Raymond.”
“Shut up, oh my god…” Ray’s voice cracked as his face got redder. “I didn’t mean it.”
“I think I taste a little blood.” Lottie licked her lip. “You want to suck that off, too? Or is that where you draw the line?”
“Lottie!” Ray whined, as she burst into laughter. “Stop.”
“It’s only fair, anyway,” she shrugged, still giggling. “I scratched your back raw.”
“Difference is, I liked that,” he huffed, not looking Lottie in the eye. “I’m sorry.”
“Ooh, you liked it?” Lottie smirked. “Want me to bite your lip too?”
“It was an accident!” Ray was turning maroon.
“Okay, I’ll let off.” Lottie smiled, before gently taking Ray’s hands away from his face. It was a long moment before he looked up at her. She was gazing down at him, smiling. “I’m only teasin’, you didn’t hurt me.”
Ray smiled. “Okay. I won’t do it again, though.”
“Oh, don’t be like that,” Lottie rolled her shoulders, and Ray laughed. “I sorta liked it. Very kinky.”
***
The rest of the week passed without much stress or hassle, apart from the fact that Porterville’s temperature dropped, significantly. Fall was fast approaching, but in Ray’s words, it ‘might as well have been winter.’
“It gets so fucking cold in Maine towards the end of the year, and well into next year,” he muttered one afternoon, the couple all bundled up in his bed. Lottie had been running her finger against his skin, drawing imaginary lines to connect the freckles. “So I reckon it’ll snow soon.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm,” he pulled Lottie closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “It’s hotter in Louisiana, right?”
“Very much so.” Lottie smiled at the tickle of his breath on her skin. “I might not take kindly to the chill, but oh well.”
Ray suddenly raised his head, looking straight at Lottie. “You don’t have scarves or gloves, right?”
“Yeah, but I was planning to buy some later today, with some of the money my Pa left behind —“
“I’ll knit you some.”
Lottie blinked. “You’ll what?”
“I’ll knit you some,” Ray repeated, shifting. “Don’t you remember —“
“Yes, I remember you tellin’ me you knit, but…” Lottie smiled. “…I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think you’re so sweet.” Lottie giggled, and Ray groaned.
“Oh, eat a dick.”
“Been there, done that.” Lottie sighed, and Ray rolled his eyes before tickling her senseless.
For the most part, Lottie had just been sleeping at Ray’s house, feeling more and more like they were practicing for something more, practicing for living together. They’d take turns cooking, and true to Ray’s word, he mostly came up with soup; Lottie had a larger range of dishes, ones that Ray would hover around and watch her make, like he was mentally making notes. They would spend the evenings playing board games, reading, or simply lying together and talking about their dreams. Lottie would speak in soft tones, using her hands to gesticulate and visualize her plans, what exactly she wanted for herself, her life, them. And Ray would watch her, stare at her, this smart, beautiful girl, and smile to himself. He’d never felt so lucky.
“You know what I think I’ll do, when we move out of here?” He spoke up one night. “I didn’t really have a job in mind, but now I think I do.”
“What’s that?” Lottie asked, turning to him. Two cornrows of hers were now slightly wonky; she’d let him plait two this time.
“I think I’ll take up construction.”
“Construction?” Lottie repeated, raising her eyebrows. “Really?”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am a little, to be honest.” Lottie replied thoughtfully. “I thought you’d get into film.”
“What, because I said I was a cinephile?”
Lottie nodded.
“The films I want to make would get me shot, so.” Ray huffed out a laugh, all off - tune. “But I’d like to have been a filmmaker, in another life.”
“Oh, really?”
“Mhm.” Ray grinned. “Maybe you could write the screenplays. You are my favorite author, after all.”
Lottie didn’t reply, kissing him instead, laughing against his lips as he hoisted her up, and her thighs bracketed his hips.
“Construction’s the right call,” she mumbled, as Ray continued to kiss her softly. “You are strong, jumper.”
***
Living together was fun. But it was also short - lived, and had to end, eventually — before they knew it, their families were due to return.
“You could always stay a couple more hours,” Ray sighed, standing in the doorway as Lottie checked through her duffel - bag, making sure she hadn’t left a single thing behind. “I don’t even think my mom and dad will be back till evening - time.”
“Ray, you know I can’t risk bein’ seen all curled up with you in bed, and besides —“ she pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “You’ll be fine. Haven’t you missed them?”
“Well yes, but —“
“There you go,” Lottie said, furrowing her brow as she rummaged through her bag. “Jumper, have you seen my —“ she dug further into her bag, her face getting flustered. “Lord, I can’t seem to find it…”
“Find what?”
“One of my undies.” Lottie answered grumpily, looking close to emptying the whole bag. “The one I brought the night I —“ she paused, slowly looking up at Ray. He looked back at her innocently.
“What?”
“Raymond.” Lottie said slowly. “Did you take my —“ she sighed, flustered. Ray looked gleeful. “Oh, my god, you did.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Ray said softly, taking Lottie by the shoulders as she glared up at him. “But I do think it’s good to take souvenirs, so.”
She stared up at him. “You’re a pervert.”
“A little.”
Lottie flipped Ray off as she shouldered her duffel bag, and Ray leaned on the doorframe as she turned to leave.
“Been there, done that.” He called after her, grinning. “Multiple times.”
“Shut up.” Lottie called back, making her way down the porch steps.
“On the countertop, in the shower, on the bed, on the sofa —“
“Ray!” Lottie hissed, whirling around as her face burned. “Stop it! People could —“
“Don’t care.” He sighed, and Lottie rolled her eyes before flouncing off towards her house. “I love you too!”
Lottie kept on walking, keys to her own house in hand — she knew it’d be mere hours before her family came back, before everything went back to normal. But it wouldn’t be the same, not really. She grinned to herself. Nothing would ever be the same. In a good way, she thought. In a great way.
She worried her mother would sense something was off, though. Mary, her old friend, had told her that a woman always looked a little different after she’d done the deed, and Lottie wondered if she was just spouting nonsense or Marie would detect something was… different.
Lottie hoped she wouldn’t. Marie had always told Lottie to wait till marriage, and she… hadn’t. Did she regret it?
Not for a second, not really.
***
William and Ginnie Garraty came back in the late hours of the night, at nine pm — around which time Ray had already cleaned the house twice over, making sure the bath tub was close to sparkling, the floors were all mopped and swept, the windows all squeaky clean, the sofas dusted and cleaned off. Ginnie was beaming when they came, William huffing and puffing as he carried their luggage behind her.
“Raymond, baby!” She said brightly, pinching her son’s cheeks with each hand. “We’ve missed you so much — how’re you?”
“I’m fine, Mom — ah—“ Ginnie had decided to pepper her son’s face with kisses, and Ray ended up grimacing. “Mom, I told you not to do that, I’m not a kid any more.”
“Oh, hush up and take kisses from your mother.” William said groggily, still mustering a smile as he ruffled Ray’s hair. “Besides, she’s glad to find you here in one piece. Both of us are.”
“Thanks.” Ray replied flatly, hiding a smile.
“Oh, the house is so clean!” Ginnie exclaimed, and Ray noticed how refreshed his mom looked; she had always been said to be a pretty lady, but with her newly rosy cheeks and let down hair, she looked even more beautiful than usual. “I’m so glad you’ve kept this place in one piece, Ray, we had so much fun on our trip!”
“Yeah, I gathered as much,” Ray replied, helping his dad with a trunk. “What’d you guys do?”
“Oh, we went to the beach, and this lovely hotel by the seaside, y’know?” Ginnie said, before William could answer. “It was much warmer at where we went than Maine, it was a welcome change! Wasn’t it, Will?”
William nodded, heaving another trunk onto the stairs with a grunt. Ray spared his father a sidelong glance, and noticed he looked more tired than usual. That he had a certain weariness that he hadn’t really seen in a while. It didn’t seem that his mom noticed, but Ginnie noticed most things, so his father was likely hiding it from —
“And we saw this zoo, with some beautiful animals, and there was this dear little space where you could pet some white rabbits, and they were so soft, and I loved it all so much!” She pressed a kiss to William’s cheek, and the latter grinned, touching where his wife had kissed him as his cheeks colored.
“But enough about our holiday,” Ginnie made a waving motion with her hand. “How was it being here alone?”
“Yeah, son,” William yawned, stretching a bit as he wrapped his arm around Ginnie’s waist. “What’d you get up to? You look relatively happy.” Ginnie leaned into him, both parents looking at Ray, expectant.
Ray blinked, unwanted memories coming into his head just then. “U-uh, me…?”
William nodded, a look of confusion passing over his face. Ray swallowed, shifting. “Oh, it was the usual — getting ready for school to reopen, reading, watching TV… nothing too different.”
“You see any of your friends?” Ginnie asked chirpily.
“What?” Ray asked, starting to rub his eyes.
“Your friends, son.” William repeated, fighting the urge to laugh. “You see any of ‘em while we were gone?”
“Yeah, uh…”
“Did you go and see your girlfriend?” Ginnie asked. Ray turned red.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“I —“ Ray sighed, rubbing his face again. “Y’know what, yeah.”
“Oh, wonderful!” Ginnie clapped her hands together, practically beaming. “I’ll have to pop by the grocery store and say hello to her mother, Marie… I think I saw her parents going to their house, did they travel too?”
“Yeah, mom.” Ray answered, his voice cracking. William was staring at his son, an unreadable look on his face. “She was alone, too, but —“
“You kept each other company?” Ginnie completed, smiling. Ray thought she saw the slightest flicker of something in her eyes.
Maybe she knew.
Ray stared at her for a moment, before opting to nod. Ginnie nodded back, sharing a look with William. “So gentlemanly of you, to visit her — I hope you two had fun!”
“Yeah, uh…” Ray shifted, not quite looking his parents in the eye. “We did have fun.”
“I’m glad you did, sweetheart.” Ginnie said softly. “I’m glad you did.”
There seemed to be a note of something underneath her tone, something that wasn’t mean, or accusing, or shaming, like Ray had subconsciously feared. It sounded sad. It sounded like she knew her son wasn’t a little boy anymore, that he was growing up, and though she was proud, she was also grappling with how fast time was going. Ginnie Garraty was a churchgoer, an avid Bible - reader, a righteous lady. But Ginnie, before everything, was Ray’s mother. And she wanted her son to be happy.
They shared a long look. She smiled. Ray smiled back.
Yeah. She definitely knew.
“Well!” Ginnie clapped suddenly. “We should probably unpack, Will… Raymond, can you bring up that trunk?” She pointed to the one at the foot of the stairs. “Your father’s a little tired.
“Oh, honey —“
“Not a word from you,” she held up a hand, and William’s mouth shut obediently. “You’ve been carrying everything around, the whole journey back… take some rest.”
Ray’s dad looked like he wanted to protest, thought about it, and let Ray take the trunks.
“Leave them outside our bedroom door, okay?” Ginnie said to Ray, giving him a kiss on the forehead. “We’ll talk more about our trip with you tomorrow, your father’s been working so hard all day… Lord knows we both need some rest — oh, the girls at the diner’ll be dying to hear about everything!” She said the last part to herself, catching up with William on the stairwell. Ray shook his head, heaving up the trunks, but not before seeing his mom support his father by letting her hand hover at the small of his back.
His brow creased. William was a strong and sturdy man, that Ray had always known. But he looked far weaker, and a bit drunker, than how he had when they left.
“Ray?!” Ginnie called back, and Ray startled a bit. “Hurry up, sweetheart, okay?”
“Yeah, I’m coming, mom.” Ray replied, before starting to lug the heavy trunks up the stairs.
***
It happened at midnight.
That was one detail Ray would always remember. That it was midnight when he heard it. The vomiting.
He didn’t know what had woken him up from his deep sleep, nor why he had jolted awake at this specific time, either. He blinked rapidly as the ceiling above him came into focus, still smelling traces of Lottie’s cinnamon scent from the bedsheets. That, he had not laundered. He turned to the side, stretching a bit — his digital clock read 12:01 AM.
“Fuck,” Ray muttered to no one in particular, sitting up — he blindly groped for the bedside lamp, his finger slipping on the button before his room was softly lit. He blinked groggily, then deciding to get some water from downstairs. His throat felt impossibly dry.
Footsteps heavy and slightly uneven, Ray made his way to his bedroom door, turning the knob with a soft click. Everything felt hazy and warm, like a soft dream, but he knew it wasn’t a dream because his throat still felt like the fucking Sahara desert.
He was well on his way to the stairwell when he heard it.
A dry heave. Something wet. He paused.
“Oh, Jesus.” An older, sickeningly familiar voice managed. “Oh, Christ —“ and they threw up again. Ray turned away from the dark stairway, looking into the corridor instead — it was dark, as usual, save for the strip of light coming from the bathroom. Its door was slightly cracked open, just enough to let the sound of vomiting escape.
Ray stepped forward slowly, his heart pounding. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach, like he already knew who it was — but at the same time, he wished fervently that it wasn’t —
Another retch, another heave. Whoever it was, they were trying their best to keep it quiet. Ray swallowed, slightly dampening his dry throat as he stepped closer to the doorway. The retching continued as he let his hand hover over the doorknob. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a shaky exhale.
It was the next retch, shaky and uninhibited and loud, that made Ray wrench the door open, panting.
There was his father, William.
He was hunched over the toilet, his once imposing and intimidating frame now all frail and trembly, his white singlet drenched with sweat. He was painting, his lean muscle taut and his skin pale, pale and sickly. His hair shielded his facial expression.
“Dad?” Ray managed, almost cringing at how small his voice felt.
William stilled before slowly looking up at Ray. His big brown eyes, the eyes that Ray had inherited, looked wide and lost and ashamed.
“Oh, son,” he sighed, his voice sounding a little weak. “You weren’t supposed to —“
William’s voice was cut off as he turned back to the toilet and vomited some more, and Ray crashed to his knees, feeling like a little boy as he held his father’s back with one hand, using the other to draw his hair out of his face.
“It’s ok, dad,” Ray said softly, stroking his father’s back as he threw up. He wanted to cry. “It’s ok.”
“No, you’re not —“ William threw up again, shaking all over. “You’re not supposed to —“
“Dad, don’t talk.” Ray replied, standing up. “I’m gonna get you some water, okay?”
Ray didn’t wait for a reply as he padded out of the bathroom, making his way down the hall, silently counting each floorboard he felt under the soles of his feet so he didn’t have to focus on the fact his father was throwing up and looking weaker.
Ray rubbed his face as he watched the glass cup fill with cold tap water, tapping his foot as it reached the rim, a habit he’d picked up from watching Lottie do it so many times. He grabbed the cup, his hand trembling as he went back to the bathroom. He heard a flush on his way and knew his father was done — by the time Ray had entered the bathroom, William was sat on the floor, back to the toilet. His arms were resting on his knees, his eyes staring at the opposite wall of the bathroom, all empty and morose. Ray stared down at his father.
“…dad?”
William’s eyes lit up as he looked up at his son. “Raymond. Ray.”
Ray squatted down, offering his dad the glass. “I got you some water. You need to hydrate yourself, dad.”
“Yeah…” William nodded, taking the glass from Ray — the latter watched his dad quietly as he chugged the water down.
“I…” William started, just after he finished the water. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this.”
“Don’t be —“
“No.” William shook his head, cutting Ray off. “You’re supposed to have a good, strong figure to look up to, and here I am…” he trailed off, looking into Ray’s eyes.
“Dad, don’t say stuff like that.” Ray sighed. “You just got a little sick.”
“It’s not just about me getting sick tonight, I —“ William exhaled through his nose. “I know you see it when I drink. How I spoke to your mother the last time, all those months ago, when I was drunk.”
Ray stilled for a moment, before nodding slowly.
“We never speak about it,” William continued, sparing a glance at Ray. “I know, as a family, we ignore it. But. It’s getting worse. I drank too much on the trip. Almost ruined it, but… anyway. Spoke anyhow to some Squads. Almost got shot, but your mother swooped in to save my sorry ass — Raymond, I have no idea what I’d do without that woman. That angel, that ray of light in my life. I’ve no idea why she puts up with me. I can be reckless, and I can talk shit knowing I could get shot by the goddamn Major for it. But he hasn’t caught me for it yet. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Maybe he doesn’t care about a rambling, half - drunk commie like me.”
“You’re not just a ‘rambling, half - drunk commie’, dad.” Ray replied, shifting closer to William. “You inspire me.”
“Stop.”
“No, I mean it, you do.” Ray looked at William, before looking down at the tiles. “You’re funny, and you’re strong, and you taught me baseball, and you teach me the old ways. Wouldn’t be half as interesting as I think I am without you, I… I think you’re one of the few good people left on Earth.” Ray swallowed, hesitating before speaking again. “You’re my hero, dad.”
William looked straight at Ray, his eyes red - rimmed and watery. “Son…”
“You really are.” Ray pressed, still unable to look his dad in the eye. “So…”
The rest of Ray’s sentence was cut off as his father pulled him in for a hug, squeezing his son tightly. Slowly, surely, Ray hugged him back, feeling bigger than him, but so small at the same time.
“I love you, Ray.” William whispered, his eye squeezed shut. “I really do.” He drew back, taking Ray in — he looked healthier already. Ray smiled. “But you need to be better than me.”
“What?”
“Don’t be a rambling drunk, don’t be fucking reckless, and for the love of god, be a better man than your father. Dont let your future kid find you vomiting at the ungodly hours.” William laughed, and Ray laughed with him — but he knew his father meant it.
“Be a better man, Raymond,” William muttered, as their laughter died down. “Promise me that, only that. Don’t be like me. Be steady. Constant . If not for yourself, then for your mother. For your girlfriend, Charlotte.”
Ray nodded. “Okay. I promise.”
“She’s a good one.”
Ray nodded again, smiling this time. “I know.”
***
Ten years earlier, somewhere in Louisiana.
Anthony Green found it comical how easy it was to apply for the Long Walk.
There really wasn’t much to it. All you had to do was to go to your local council. And he had, telling his Pa that he was only going to work in town, joking with his little siblings Lottie and Robert before making his way out.
He was sick. This whole thing was sick. You told the lady at the front desk of the council what you were applying for, you stared at the black - and - white posters of the Major lining the walls, took a piece of paper, verified your age. Then the secretary would smile all pearly - white and unsettling, just before you undertook a Physical test, a Mental Objectives test, and a Mental Essay test.
Why do you want to enter the Long Walk? That was the question on the piece of paper they gave you for the Mental Essay. Wanted to see how you ticked, Anthony surmised. Wanted to see why you would willingly enter a death march. You sat in a room with the best air conditioning in the whole town with whatever other boys that happened to be applying with you. And there were many. So many boys applied for the Long Walk. Every boy applied for the Long Walk. If you didn’t, you were either privileged, a sissy, or old. That’s what people said, anyway.
After you wrote the test and avoided the eyes of the other applicants, they reviewed it. Gave you a day, told you ‘come on back tomorrow,’ with a smile and a wave.
And so Anthony would go to town. Work. See his love, Lilith. Watch her eyes light up as she spoke about a new song she’d learnt or something silly her baby brother, Richard, had done. And Anthony would laugh and kiss her and feel the knife of guilt twisting and turning in his gut, feel like a piece of shit for signing up for something Lilith hated with all her heart. But he had to do it. For her. For everyone.
Besides, there was a chance he wouldn’t make it to the raffle. There was a chance he wouldn’t make it past processing, there was a chance they’d seen his essay and dubbed him insane. He was insane.
And after ignoring all this guilt, all this remorse, he’d tell Lilith goodbye. Stay safe. Get home before sundown. And she’d smile and nod and kiss him, and he’d trudge home.
Anthony would eat dinner with his family, recounting his day and his earnings. He’d watch Lottie cuddle her stuffed rabbit and Robert show him a diagram of a spaceship he was supposedly inventing. He and Atticus wouldn’t speak a lot. But he could see his father looking at him out the corner of his eye, like he wanted to say something. Anything.
But he did not.
After some fussing from his mom that he should eat more, Anthony would make his way to his room, sinking into his bed and burying his face into the pillow.
It’d been a mere three weeks since he’d scarred Pete, and he kept having nightmares about it, but he’d masked his guilt well enough.
It ate at him. Pete was alright. That was what the hospital said. But it ate at him, constantly. The look in his eyes, the blood, the feeling of the hunting knife in his palm… he couldn’t believe it. He may have been alright, but… that scar would never be reversed, never heal, not really. He’d fucked up so badly. Fuck. He was a piece of shit. He was a piece of shit liar and he didn’t deserve anybody. He stood strong at daytime, taking care of Lottie and Robert and trying to cater to everyone, but he wasn’t anything, not really. He was just a liar, a cheat.
A nobody.
People would be better off without him. Part of him wished he would make it into the raffle, that he would get picked. That he’d go on the Walk and get his ticket and get out of here. No. That was selfish. Fuck, fuck, THINK Anthony THINK.
Anthony would whimper and cry to himself, all curled up in his bed, little shaking sobs that made him feel weak and small. His tears would stain the sheets and the pillowcase. They’d seep and stain everything. He was so sad. He was so sad, all the—
“You passed.”
Anthony blinked, looking at the secretary at the local council. It was the next morning.
“…what?”
“You passed all the tests, sweetheart,” she repeated, her blonde hair sprayed to perfection. Definitely State material. “Your name has been put in the raffle. You stand a chance to be a Prime Walker! If you don’t get that, you can be a Backup for any boy that backs out of the procession before the deadline.”
“Oh…” Anthony swallowed, his voice soft and hoarse as he shifted. “Oh, okay… what do I —“
“All you need to do is wait.” She answered. “The Walk is in a couple of days, and they’ll be pickin’ names out the raffle today. If you get in, we’ll deliver a letter to your address. Who knows, you could represent your state!”
“Yeah, uh…” Ant trailed off. “Thanks.”
He had done it.
He had really done it.
Anthony Green had applied for the Long Walk.
***
Around two days later, Anthony decided he needed to tell Lilith. The State hadn’t told him whether or not he’d be walking yet, but one thing Marie had always told them was that it was admirable to be honest about things. And he wanted to be honest with Lilith.
He owed her that, at least.
It was late afternoon when Ant set out to his oasis, the lake in the woods, where he always met Lilith. He’d given her the signal when they saw each other in town, and she’d silently nodded, motioning to the diner she worked in as a way of telling him she was still on shift but would be done soon. Ant, giving her a small and wan smile, nodded.
Robbie and Lottie had been at school when he’d gotten back home, Atticus at work — but Ant knew his Pa would be back soon.
“Anthony?” Marie asked, going about the house as Anthony hurriedly changed in his room. “Sweetheart, where’re you goin’?”
“I’m just seeing a friend, Ma, nothin’ to worry about,” Ant replied briskly, putting on a jacket. Marie pursed her lips at her son before speaking.
“That’s all good and well, Anthony, but I’ve been meanin’ to speak to you.” She set down a book she’d been reading, and Anthony paused.
“Ma, can it wait? I’ve got to —“
“No, it cannot wait, Anthony.” Marie said firmly. “I’d like to speak to my son.”
Anthony looked to the doorway, out at the high afternoon sun, and sighed.
“Now, I know you and your father have been at odds recently.”
“Ma, don’t start —“
“And I know he’s rightfully upset.” Marie steamrolled over Anthony, raising her eyebrows. “Anthony, what were you thinkin’, bringing up that death march at dinner? I know things are hard, but we’re making an honest living.”
“Ma.” Anthony swallowed. “You don’t — I can’t — you know what?” He sighed, rubbing his face and ignoring the tears threatening to spring up. “…never mind.”
“Please, Anthony.” Marie stepped toward him. Anthony then remembered how people had always said they looked alike. “Try and talk to your Pa. Figure something out. He loves you, Anthony. He’s just scared for you. We all are. If you have anything you need to tell me, anything, you can do it now, but that Walk is not the way.”
Anthony stared at his mother. He wanted to cry.
“Ma, I’ll…” Anthony pursed his lips. “I’ll talk to him. To all of you. Tonight. I promise. I just —“ he shifted, “— I just need to finish some business, and I’ll be back.”
Marie nodded, a smile breaking out on her face as she pulled Anthony in for a hug; the latter would always be taller than his mother, but he felt just like a little boy again, just then.
“I understand your frustration, baby,” Marie whispered, squeezing her son tighter. “But there are better ways. Your father loves you, as do I.”
Anthony’s hands trembled slightly before hugging his mother back.
Maybe she was right. Maybe this wasn’t the way — he now hoped that they wouldn’t draw his name out. Even if they did, he’d back out. What was he thinking? Leaving everyone behind like that. Insane. He was insane.
Marie drew back, placing her palm on the side of her son’s face, sniffling a little before smiling. “You’re a dear boy, Anthony. Now go on and see your friend, I’ll be waitin’ here with the rest.”
Anthony smiled back, nodding — he definitely wouldn’t go now. He’d done it on a whim, applying. But he still owed Lilith that truth. And he surely would deserve the berating he’d get from her.
Still, as he went, glancing at a broken bottle sticking out of the soil, he allowed himself to smile a bit. He couldn’t wait to see her, either way.
***
The heat in the the thick Louisiana brush had made Anthony Green sweat and unbutton his shirt a little — he wiped his brow as he plodded on through the high grass. Birds twittered and sang, and he found himself shutting his eyes as a soft breeze blew.
It was quiet, Anthony thought. Very quiet.
He opened his eyes, and realized he was quite close to where he and Lilith usually met up. Their oasis. Usually, he’d hear the gentle strum of a guitar, the soft lilt of her silvery voice.
But he heard nothing.
With a sharp intake of breath, Anthony Green stopped in his tracks. It wasn’t just very quiet.
It was too quiet. It was unnaturally quiet.
A slow sense of dread suddenly overcame Ant, and he picked up the pace as he made his way to the rocky lakeside.
“Lilith?!” He called out, his voice clear and strong.
No answer. Anthony furrowed his brow as slowly, surely, he started to break into a run. “Lilith! Lils!”
Still, no answer. Anthony close to stumbled as he ran, finally making his way to the lakeside, finally at their oasis—
Lilith was there.
She was curled up at a far side of the bank — her curly, dark - brown hair spilling in all the wrong ways, all messed up. Her usually beautiful olive skin all blotchy and flushed. Her pretty eyes red - rimmed and tear - stained. Her colorful dress was torn in places, her body was shivering. Anthony wasted no time, running to her.
“Lilith!” He yelled. “Lilith —“ he fell to his knees in front of her, his hands hovering over her shoulders as she let out shaky, broken sobs.
“Anthony…” she sobbed out, looking straight into his eyes — he would never forget that look, not for the rest of his life. “Anthony, they…”
“Lilith, what happened?” She couldn’t respond, her body trembling so much that Ant had to hold her to him, hold her so she wouldn’t fall apart. “Tell me, please —“
“He… he tried to…” Lilith’s voice, usually steady and strong, was reduced to a stuttering mess. Anthony’s eyes widened as he shifted closer.
“Who?” He asked, struggling to keep his voice steady. “Lilith, who?”
“G-general Wordsworth,” Lilith’s voice was choked. “I was workin’ at the diner, and Anthony, he hurt me — he tried to…”
Anthony felt the blood drain from his face.
No.
There was a long moment of silence, one punctured only by a sniffle, or a gust of wind. Anthony was staring into Lilith’s eyes now, still clutching her. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.
“He tried to what, Lilith?” His voice sounded close to tears. He sounded like a little boy. “He tried to what?”
Lilith swallowed, hanging her head, her tears dampening Anthony’s shirt, but Anthony didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything but her. Lilith’s lips trembled before she looked back up at him, before she spoke the words that would change everything.
“He tried to rape me, Anthony.”
***
Author’s Note: Tragedy without hope is meaningless.
(I’ve started on the next chapter already, but making it might be slow).
Watched Knives Out 3 and Challengers recently. Post - exams and after finishing this fic I wonder if I should write a fic for any of them, lmk which one yall would like :D
I always forget there are maga people on tumblr, this doesn’t feel like a website you’d find them on, so to keep them away:
Reblog if your blog is a maga free zone because if it wasn’t clear enough fuck ice, fuck maga, fuck Trump, Fuck Rowling, and fuck all the other bigots I missed
yall need to stop making Ray Garraty this soft flower all the time just bc hes a virgin the the book. The same book in which he just thinks about tits, his gf, and Pete jerking him off
