143{Gemma}

[lyss]

Rowan Springer
.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.
I was going through my call log,
The other day,
And all I saw was your name.
.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.

Rowan rolled on his side in his bed, his head pounding from the party he had went to last night. Nee had warned him not to go, but he had not listen. He wished he had, though. Somebody's older brother sneaked some alcohol into the party, and Rowan fell under the spell of suggestion. He was the kind of guy who easily gave into peer pressure. He groaned as he forced himself out of bed, his sides throbbing alongside his head. There was puking, too.

He didn't want to go to school today. If he told his mom his head hurt and so did his stomach, she would probably let him stay home. She might assume it was just pre-reaping jitters. The only reason he didn't worm his way back under his covers was because this would probably be his last chance to see her before the reaping. He had been careful not to buy any tessarae this time. He didn't want any extra chance of being in the games.

Rowan stumbled down the stairs, almost tripping multiple times. The kitchen was empty, except for his little sister's rag doll lying on the table. His parents had forced him to treat "Molly" as his youngest sister. Whatever helped his sister stutter less was always forced upon Rowan. They were all bad ideas, especially the one that she read him a bedtime story.

Rowan roamed his kitchen, searching for a specific item. You'd think it'd be cereal, right? Wrong. A permanent marker. He keeps one hidden in a hole behind a cabinet. The problem is, he can never remember what number cabinet it is. He ran his finger over the rough wood, searching for the hole. His finger felt like it had been pricked, and he yanked it back. Red blood streamed down his right index finger. Sure enough, he had found the hole, but with a price. He yanked the sharpie out of the hole and wrote 143 in big print on his left hand. He wrote it every day, to keep him happy when he had a bad day. To keep his spirits high. To keep him thinking of Nee.

143. I love you. I obviously has one letter, love has four, and you has three. 143. That was their signature saying, their symbol. It was what they wrote on every note they passed, what they said at the beginning and ending of every school day.

Rowan pulled a band-aid from the cabinet he cut his finger on and quickly yanked it out of its wrapper. He barely noticed it had a bunch of small pink hearts all around a white background. He laughed and made his way out of his house. He passed many houses, every single one taking the shape and colors of Nee's house. A flash of brown and blue raced around Rowan. He could have sworn it was his brother, Oliver, playing tricks on him, but he knew it was his mind when his head throbbed more intensely than had this morning. He felt dizzy and began to stumble. Suddenly, everything around Rowan went black and he crashed on the pavement.

*******

Rowan thrashed under his covers in his room before ripping his eyes open. He couldn't remember anything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, especially how he had gotten back in bed. He did remember waking up before, and he was certain it was a new day. He quickly scanned his room, finding the corner farthest from him lighted by two nightlights, a rocking chair occupied by Oliver, and his little sister, Cherrie, snuggled in bed next to him. Since Rowan rarely moved in his sleep, his tossing and turning must have woken up Oliver, for his eyes now drilled into Rowan's.

"We found you laying on the ground after school," Oliver whispered. "I got mom and dad and brought them here, and then they carried you home. You've been sleeping for about twelve hours. Me and Cherrie told mom and dad that we wanted to watch you sleep. I think they're really worried about the reaping this year. They got their request for you to stay home from the reaping accepted, though, so I would go back to sleep in case they come check on you."

*******

Rowan woke once again, and this time it was late evening. He groaned as he heaved himself out of bed. This time, the headache and the throbbing in his sides were absent. He made his way to the family room, expecting his family to be there waiting for him. Instead, there was a small note on the coffee table.

Dear Rowan,
We went to the market to get something special for dinner. You probably want to know who was reaped. M-Alexander Hood F-Dysis Admea. Anyways, we'll be back soon. Nee came by to check on you. I'd go pay her a visit.
With love, Mom.

Rowan dropped the note, flung the front door open, and ran out of house, barely shutting the door behind him. He sprinted to one of the places he usually met Nee at, which was a quaint coffee shop on the other side of Seven from his house. They had found it one day by passing it on a long evening walk. He hoped Nee would be there, for he wanted to be alone. The coffee shop was almost always deserted, so it was the perfect meeting place. He slowed down as he could see a small, brown dot enter his vision and a small smile crept up on his face. He was sure that he could see Nee sitting outside, waiting for him. Rowan's family had invited Nee's family to come enjoy their post-reaping feast at their house tonight, and even though they hadn't received an answer, he was sure they were coming. Rowan ran a hand through his hair and noticed the band-aid was still there. Erupting in laughter, Rowan picked up his pace, eager to see Nee.

[gemmawolf]

Nee Jackson



***
For a time I thought my faith, it must be hiding
Searching through the sky, hoping to find a way
A way, to get me through the day
***

Nee stood outside her house with her younger sister Maple, waiting for Rowan until ten minutes before school started. Finally, she caved in to disappointment and they ran straight through the town to get to school on time. She was worried about him. Anything could have happened at the party last night. Parties weren’t her thing; it was never long after the adults had left that the booze appeared, and teenagers were susceptible to stupid ideas. Even Rowan. She’d warned him, but let him go anyway. His choice, she thought, but I would have liked to see him today.

They made it just in time for the bell, split off and filed into class as always; she clenched her left fist so that the 143 written on the palm wouldn’t be questioned by her teacher. She had forgotten how boring lessons were without him, and spent most of the day staring blankly out of the window as her mind sieved through all the possible outcomes of the party. Lying face down in a ditch? Locked up? Next time I’ll go with him, she decided around noon, and make sure this doesn’t happen again - if there is a next time. The Reaping was tomorrow; what if one of their names were pulled out of the glass balls? Or both? She would never get over missing one last day with him.

The day was uneventful, and she headed half-way home with Maple in silence; both of them were fearing the worst. Her sister was entered twice, and herself five times, with no tesserae on either of them; they would manage without it between the pay from her and their father – Maple was even set to get a job, but something less laborious than the lumberyard. But seven slips to their family was enough of a risk.

Rowan didn’t show his face at work either, which was no surprise, but she had still held out a hope. After a long, lonely shift, she walked slowly home, looking up at the sky as it shifted from clear, to cloudy, to clear, and picked out the summer stars. She kicked pebbles ahead of her, carried on walking, and kicked them ahead again until they swerved out of her reach. Eventually, she entered the back yard, chopped a small pile of firewood, and went straight to bed with a chunk of bread and a glass of water. He has to be at the Square tomorrow, she thought, chewing her food. People only stayed at home if they were at death’s door, and he couldn’t be dying. She refused to believe it. Her eyes began to shut as soon as she finished her meal. She pictured Rowan’s smiling face, and dreamt what could be the last happy dreams in her life.

***

What’s wrong with him? The question had been bugging her all day. Not the question of if the name of anyone she knew was taken out of the ball, but what could be serious enough to keep Rowan at home on Reaping day. As it turned out, the girl and boy that had been selected meant little to her, although she guessed that by the end of the next school day she would know every bit of gossip and events linked to them. She would root for them, but beyond their deaths there was nothing that she was interested about in the Hunger Games.

“We’ll see,” her father said when she told him this, walking back from the District Square. He knew that she had a weakness for action, like her little visits into the woods, which he was determined to put a stop to. “And who knows? Maybe we’ll have a Victor this time round.” She pictured sweets, rice, lamb, syrup, fish! But she would just have to wait, whether it was District Seven’s turn to produce a winner or not. A few weeks to a hundred years – what was the difference, really?

“By the way, Nee,” her mother said lightly, relief clear in her tone, “Rowan’s parents invited us round for dinner tonight. I haven’t given an answer yet, I wanted to see who else offers.”

“Mom!” she cried, “Of course I want to go to their house! Who else were you thinking?”

She huffed. “I just thought that we should keep our options open. You know that the neighbours have been meaning to pay us back for that firewood we gave them in winter. Perhaps they’ll invite us too.”

“How will you choose?”

“Depends on who’s the best cook,” her father piped up, grinning. “But don’t worry, love, Mrs. Springer is almost as good as your mother in the kitchen, so she should win.” He planted a kiss on his wife’s cheek. Maple giggled. Nee just rolled her eyes.

“Well I’m going over to his place right now,” she said, picking up her pace. It was so embarrassing to see her parents acting like teenagers. Of course, she didn’t hold off with the kisses around Rowan, but that was different! “I won’t be long, I just want to see how he’s doing.” She marched off, her lemon Reaping dress flowing in the breeze, her small heels clacking on the cobbles.

***

“How’s he doing?” she whispered to his brother, entering the bedroom quietly. She had never been in there before – why would she? Like her own room, it was simple and small, but decorated in little ways to reflect the owner’s personality. However, the details weren’t important to her; the huddled figure under the covers was what she had come to see.

“Sleeping it off,” Oliver replied. “I’m no expert, but I’d say he got a nasty bump on the head after collapsing on the pavement. Bit worse than a hangover, wouldn’t you agree?” She made a non-committal noise and crossed over to see him. Nee couldn’t help but smile when she saw him sleep; it was strange to see such a lively person in a state of peace and grace. Sleeping was the best medicine, though, and she didn’t want to disturb him. She bent down and kissed him lightly on the forehead.

“Tell him I stopped by, won’t you?” she said on her way out. “Thanks.”

***

She looked at her watch again. 7:30. Where is he? she wondered. No one can sleep for this long! She was sitting at the table of their favourite cafe in the district; a quiet little place, the perfect corner of town to just sit and talk. No one else was there as far as she knew - as usual - but if Rowan knew her, he would show up at some point. I’ll even miss the feast if I have to.

Finally, he appeared. He was running towards her at such a pace that she thought he wouldn’t stop. He was a mess, but that didn’t matter. The first thing she did was show her palm, the message rewritten in marker pen. It was a mystery why she had to keep going over it; surely it would have been tattooed onto her skin by now? “You shouldn’t push yourself,” she laughed, trying to sort out his hair, giving up, then ruffling it once more. “We’ve got another year before it’s time to worry again. How are you feeling?”

(OOC: Looooong post. And ‘mom’? So used to writing ‘mum’, but oh well. Panem is the future USA, is it not? (‘Is it not?’ I’m so posh! Lol!))

[lyss]

Rowan Springer
.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.
I was thinking,
What I'm thinking
This girl got me feeling some kind of way
.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.

Rowan finally reached Nee, his grin on his face spreading. He spun her around, pulling her towards him just a bit. Nee ruffled his hair, giggling, and Rowan laughed back. He was so happy that neither of them had been reaped.

“We’ve got another year before it’s time to worry again. How are you feeling?”

"Hungover," he laughed. "I'm fine, though, really.

It was true. All the running he had done had made his head throb again and his stomach churned a bit. He tried to push it aside, though. He was glad he and Nee could be together. Rowan took Nee's hands in each of his, taking in Nee's reaping outfit as he did.

"Beautiful dress,"he murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Nee's ear.

He pulled her into his arms, and gave her a long kiss, feeling as if he had swallowed a bucket of roly polies. When they seperated for air, he wrapped his arms around Nee's waist. The autumn breeze tossed some of her hair towards his face, and he breathed in her scent, a mixture of pine and the small flowers that dotted some trees.

"I must look like a runaway standing next to you."

Rowan smoothed down his hair with one hand, leaving his other resting on Nee's waist. He attempted to smooth the wrinkles in his shirt, but only a few disappeared. He returned his other hand to Nee's waist and smiled.

"So, can you come tonight? My mom has been imagining working in the kitchen with your and your mother ,but I told her that guests don't need to make the meal. She didn't listen, of course. Nothing can stop my mom once she's had her mind made. I just hope she doesn't whip out any baby pictures of me in the tub or tell you some embarrassing story."

Rowan chuckled. He knew that would happen, though. He noticed the photo album and baby book sitting underneath the coffee table. His mother loved to bask in his baby days, the time before he started developing ADHD. She had been planning for this night ever since Rowan and Nee became an "official" couple. "Oh, joy! He's finally got himself a good one!"

Rowan has dated a few nice girls before, but his mother never met them. Most of his nice girl relationships lasted that long, but his and Nee's had long surpassed the "high-score." He couldn't wait to show Nee off tonight, if she came, that is. He was proud of how long they had lasted, considering they were enemies before. He had a feeling that his sister would love Nee, and that Oliver would at least talk to her. Maybe he would have a still-life picture ready to give the Jackson's. A flower in a vase, perhaps.

Rowan began to sway slightly, waiting for her answer. The Jackson's were a good family; they were bound to have other dinner offers from neighbors. If her family would prefer a neighbor, then maybe just Nee could come. Spending dinner with his family and just Nee is what Rowan preferred, but he knew his mother wanted to meet Nee's family.

Maybe, if just Nee did come, then Rowan might work in the kitchen. He doubted his mother would really make her cook, so maybe when she wasn't looking, he'd sneak up behind her and flick flour on her. The idea of them having a flour fight brought a smile to his face, and he hoped that she could come.


ooc Sorry for such a short post!

[gemmawolf]

***
Wonder where I belong, is this where I will stay?
You lift me up when I am falling,
You’re my friend when I was calling,
***

"Hungover! I'm fine, though, really. Beautiful dress," he murmered, holding her hands and taking his turn to fiddle with her hair. He pulled her in for a kiss; she didn’t hesitate. Instead she just took in the moment, the relief. She had known for hours now that he was still with her, but now he was standing right in front of her. He still looked sick, but better. She held him tightly so that not even the strongest forces of nature could part them until they decided.

They parted, and he rested his hands on her waist. Cheeky sod, she thought, but only half meant it. What did it say about her when she never refused his touch? "I must look like a runaway standing next to you." She nodded, causing him to smooth down his hair and try to remove the wrinkles from his shirt, one hand remaining on her waist the whole time until the other joined it.

"So, can you come tonight? My mom has been imagining working in the kitchen with you and your mother ,but I told her that guests don't need to make the meal. She didn't listen, of course. Nothing can stop my mom once she's had her mind made. I just hope she doesn't whip out any baby pictures of me in the tub or tell you some embarrassing story."

Images of their families shoved together into one household flashed through her mind. She had been waiting to see how they all meshed for weeks now. Her mother would be bringing some food, they could count on that, and she enjoyed a bit of cooking, too. She could picture Maple playing with Cherrie; although her sister was thirteen, she got on well with kids much younger than her, and imagined that both could use some girly company since she and Rowan had pretty much ditched them for each other. Speak for yourself, she reminded herself. Nee knew she was a bit selfish – but wasn’t everyone? She liked to make more time for him these days, usually in place of the time she used to spent with her sister. But Rowan seemed to still make time for his siblings, and he had twice as many!

“If we didn’t go to your house then my parents would never hear the end of it,” she assured him, resting her hands on his shoulders. “And we’re in the same boat; mom will only reply with enthusiasm and a story about me. She’ll be bringing a few dishes round, too, and I wondered if I’d be any use to you. How come you’ve never tried my baking yet?

“Anyway, we’ve accepted. Been waiting for it all day!” She paused and kissed him quickly on the lips. “We’d better get going; I need to help with bringing some food round.”


(OOC: My post is a bti short tonight, too! Bit busy...)

[lyss]

.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.
Cause baby I never thought I would be the one who's caught up
But now I see you differently,
Like maybe this could be love
.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.

“If we didn’t go to your house then my parents would never hear the end of it,” she assured him, resting her hands on his shoulders. “And we’re in the same boat; mom will only reply with enthusiasm and a story about me. She’ll be bringing a few dishes round, too, and I wondered if I’d be any use to you. How come you’ve never tried my baking yet?"

Rowan simply shrugged and laughed. He didn't know, and right now, all he wanted to do was take Nee to his home. He had something he wanted to show her, something special. Something he never imagined he would give a girl at his age.

“Anyway, we’ve accepted. Been waiting for it all day!” She paused and kissed him quickly on the lips. “We’d better get going; I need to help with bringing some food round.”

Rowan quickly kissed Nee back, taking one of her hands in his own. He wanted to race home, so he could go ahead and show Nee the gift he had for her. He tried to calm down, for he didn't want his excitement to show. He wanted Nee to be caught off guard by the gift.

As they walked, Rowan couldn't help but stare at Nee, even if it meant falling over some rocks. She looked so beautiful in her dress, so he wondered why she didn't wear them more often. Sure, she wasn't the girliest girl, but she still enjoyed many things girly girls did. Maybe Nee just never had a reason to dress up. There was never any happy days that were worth dressing up for.

The closer they got to Rowan's house, the faster his heart beat. He wondered if his sister squirmed herself into his room and trashed the gift. His brother always had the opportunity to hide it, also. He began to feel a little queasy, unsure if his gift was safely hidden anymore. He felt his hands go cold and a few drops of sweat roll down the back of his neck. He tried to shake the bad feelings away; there was no way his siblings had found it. Rowan had hidden it very well. It was hiding behind a pile of junk on the top shelf behind his closet door. He never even knew that shelf existed before he hid it there.

Soon enough, the couple reached the front door of the Springer's residence. The two had made the journey in almost complete silence, barely managing small talk. Rowan was afraid he'd drop a hint.

[gemmawolf]

***
Now I'm on top of the world
Top of the whole wide world
Yeah, you always been believing
***

He kissed her back and took one of her hands, making her heart flutter as always. The events of the morning were pushed to the back of her mind; she could find out about the poor tributes later, but for now she could be happy that it wasn’t her or the boy she was walking with, even if they were completely silent. She avoided his gaze, feeling his eyes on her. She knew it was a pretty dress, yellow, printed with daisies; it was by far her favourite garment, aside from the squirrel necklace she also wore. She felt beautiful, like the other girls, not a scruffy, sweaty worker with blistered hands and an aching back that never left her. She didn’t want to be normal, but she would like to be treated normally by others.

Why is it always the oddballs that are Reaped? she wondered. The ones who stuck out in society, the people who were visibly different from their words or behaviour, they were the ones that were chosen. It’s probably all fixed to keep us in line, to pick out the strange ones. Then another thought hit her, one that sent shivers down her spine and made her come closer to Rowan’s warmth. I’m different... She shook the idea out of her head, because it was all utter rubbish. She was never chosen because she barely had any entries. It was a tiresome routine, really, something that got her all hyped up and left her unscathed aside from the energy drain when the adrenaline dies down. To take her mind off things she fantasised about food again.

Trifle, even if it’s made with jam and biscuits instead of sponge and custard. Hot, fresh bread; nothing new, but just as delicious! I wonder what Mrs. Springer will make? Potatoes? Mutton? Apples? She started to feel a little sick at the humongous list of delicacies, and sensed that Rowan was the same. She glanced at him, but he was looking ahead for the moment. Despite his ‘runaway’ appearance, he was just as handsome as usual. His scruffy hair didn’t bother her, especially since she barely bothered to do anything with her own. Today was an exception; it was tied up in a bun, held in by pins. She tried to work out his thoughts on the day, since he missed most of it. Exciting? Dull? Fun? Horrific? She wouldn’t know – unless she asked.

She remembered the evening in the warehouse, when they had opened up to each other for the first time, their words and feelings left without influence from the expectations of others. Magical was the only word to describe it. She sighed, feeling empty. We wasted all that time, she thought, rubbing her bare arms in the cool breeze. But they were nearing the front door of his house, which was large compared to her residence of four rooms; two bedrooms, a kitchen and a living room. This place seemed like a mansion to her, but without all the little fiddly bits. She was suddenly nervous, with goose-bumps up her arms and a chill on her forehead. Will they like me? What do they already know? Are my parents already here? As the door swung open, she found the answers.

[lyss]

.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.
Givin me cute names, yeah I like that, ayy.
If there call trouble, call her right back.
Showin' PDA in every way
.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.

Rowan pushed the door of his house open, barely taking note of the occupancy. He stood up from his slouching stance, whispering into Nee's ear,"Come upstairs, I have a gift for you."

Realizing how provocative he had sounded, Rowan plastered his best goofy grin on his face. He began to lead Nee toward's his bedroom, located at the very back of the house, when Oliver popped up in front of them, giving Rowan a questioning look. Rowan quickly did the three hand signals he was so used to now. After quickly forming his empty hand in the shape of a C, changing it to a four, and the pointing to himself, he walked around his brother, hoping he caught one of their quick phrases. The one Rowan just showed was their signal for "cover for me." Slipping behind a rather large white column, one of the house's few luxuries, Rowan finally pulled Nee into his room.

"Sit, sit," Rowan encouraged Nee in a polite tone. "Now close your eyes until I say otherwise."

Rowan quickly slipped to the door of his room, silently shutting it and locking it. No need for any unwanted company, he thought.

Rowan practically raced to his closet, being careful not to trip over anything he never bothered to pick up. He gently pulled his closet door towards him, flicking the light switch upwards. He squeezed his way to his secret wall with his hidden shelves, quickly rummaging through the top one. He tossed a baseball on a floor, pulled some dirty socks, threw a breakfast bar in the air, before reaching his desired object. A small black box rested at the back of the shelf, surrounded by small walls of cardboard, protecting it from any eyes other than his own. He pulled it from it's fortress and walked out of his closet, turning out the light as he went.

Rowan sat down next to Nee on his bed, calming his nerves by breathing deeply. He popped the small box open, revealing the gift he'd been keeping hidden for over a week now. Inside was a necklace, a creation of his own. He didn't have enough money to buy her a real necklace, one with jewels or gold chains. He had gotten Oliver to help him make it, since he was an artist. He scooted around on his bed until he was facing Nee's back and untied the knot in his necklace, slowly bringing it around her neck. Rowan retied it, and gave it a quick look over.

Rowan had strung a handful of colorful glass beads on a thick strand of brown leather rope. It sounded like it was cheap, but it had taken much of Rowan's time, deciding what color beads to buy. Once he had bought them, Oliver had helped Rowan mold intricate designs onto the beads. The colors were all of Nee's favorites, even the dark colors she liked. The designs were things like pine cones, flowers, raindrops, and other things of nature. Rowan knew the necklace was not as special as he had hoped, but he couldn't afford the kind that people in upper districts could.

Rowan got off the bed and sat down on the floor in front of Nee."Open them," he whispered, grinning from ear to ear.

A voice rang out, calling Rowan down to eat. Rowan turned to the door, unlocking it. If either of his parents came up here and found his door locked and Nee in his room, they would think that they were up there drinking or something. Rowan let Nee examine her necklace before slipping into his closet. He left the door cracked, quickly changing. He yanked off his graphic-tee and yanked a navy blue polo from his closet. He pulled the shirt over his head, deciding to leave his denim jacket in the closet.

Rowan kept trying to tug his arms through the sleeves, but he didn't know that the shirt had accidentlay been hung inside-out, making it tighter than it normally was. He shoved an arm through a sleeve, which ended in a large riiip and his sleeve tearing in two.

"Shhhhiii-" Rowan cried out, keeping himself from swearing in case anybody was near his room. He had ripped one of his few nice shirts, and now it would take his mother ages to sew it back together. He had no idea where the rest of his nice shirts were, since he had only ever worn his navy polo.

Suddenly, Rowan remembered something. Earlier this year, his mother had bought Rowan a "nice shirt", but Oliver had wanted it so badly that they put it in his room, even though it was way too big. Rowan wouldn't mind wearing it, it was a simple red long-sleeved shirt. The problem was, Oliver's room was near the kitchen, and he couldn't go anywhere near the kitchen, shirtless or not. Even if he had a graphic-tee on, his parents would force him to sit down and eat. He groaned and rolled his eyes. These past few days had all had spots of bad luck in them.

[gemmawolf]

***
Gave my life a whole new meaning
Now I’m on top of the world
Top of the whole wide world
***

She didn’t have time to check who was in the house because Rowan immediately whispered, "Come upstairs, I have a gift for you." She raised her eyebrows cheekily. His mad smile showed that he only just realised what he sounded like. She stifled a laugh, and followed him. They bumped into his brother on the way, and some unspoken language was conveyed between the two boys, then they continued upstairs. Nee shook her head; I’ll never fully understand boys. She entered his room for the second time that day, and sat on his bed, closing her eyes like he asked her to.

She could hear him lock the door, then some rummaging about and flinched when she heard various unidentifiable objects hitting the floor in his closet. But she kept her eyes firmly shut. He was back in a flash, clearly nervous about whether she would like his mystery gift. It didn’t take her long to work out that it was a necklace as he tied it gently around her neck. She tried to imagine what it was; several tiny charms felt cold against her skin, but the chain – or string – was soft. But nothing from the only jewellery shop in town sprung to mind. She waited patiently. "Open then," he said quietly.

She did, and she lifted the band in her palm as delicately as she could, then looked down at it. Her other hand went to her mouth as she stared at the tiny beads with their decorations. “My favourite colours,” she murmured, more to herself than to Rowan. The cool charms sported designs on the shades she loved most; raindrops on royal blue, flowers on rose pink, sunbeams on orange and pine cones on dark green. Other less common hues and symbols were scattered about, too, and the leather strip was the perfect finishing touch. As much as she adored her squirrel necklace, the chain bit at her when she moved too much, but this was as gentle as Rowan’s touch.

He unlocked the door as they were called down for dinner, then disappeared back into his wardrobe to change. She remained on his bed, staring at the perfect gift, wondering how long it took him to make it; it couldn’t have been made by anyone else. How would they know her favourite colours, her favourite sights? She pictured each one: the rain hammering on the warehouse as they mended their years of pain; the golden glow of the sun as she watched it rise over the trees and distant hills of the forest from her roof on every clear morning all her life; spring flowers blooming at the base of the trees on the edge of the woods; the scent of pine that was blown throughout the district in the summer breeze. Only Rowan knew how special those moments were to her. It’s so beautiful... She wiped the tears from her face as soon as she realised she was crying.

Suddenly she heard him nearly swear, and wondered what was going on. “Rowan? Is something wrong?” She considered going in, but held herself back. He could be stark naked! A grin crossed her face as she imagined the moment.

“Rowan?”
“Ahh! Get out!”
Squeal, slam, run.

She giggled lightly before burying her mischievous side. She wasn’t going to embarrass him, especially since he would never do the same to her. “Do you need anything?”

[lyss]

.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.
I never pictured me doing this sayin'
Hey girl, I wanna give you a round of applause
You deserve a standing ovation
Cause you got me falling in love with all the things you do, baby
.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.

Rowan knew that even if he sent Nee to get the shirt, his parents would question the thin strand of trust they had with her. He began to paw through his shirts when Nee spit out in giggles, "Do you need anything?”

"A person who can sew quickly," he muttered under his breath before adding louder,"No, just a little clothing issue."

Rowan finally found an old polo hanging at the back of his closet. It looked like it had long passed its wearing time, in size and cleanliness. He didn't particularly like the color scheme anymore, which was an orange background with white and navy stripes. He ripped it off the hanger and tugged it over his head, being careful surging his arms through the sleeves. Once he was certain the shirt wouldn't rip, he walked out of his closet, tugging the shirt past his chest. He scrapped the idea of buttoning any of the buttons since the shirt was already tight enough. He smiled, taking Nee's hand in his own as he had many times already today.

Rowan opened his door and slowly walked down the stairs with Nee. He heard a gasp, which he was sure came from his sister because he then heard he whisper, "She looks so pretty."

Rowan grinned and smoothed down his hair one more time before entering the kitchen. He pulled out one of the two empty chairs, letting Nee sit down, before sitting next to her. The table in his family's kitchen was normally meant for six people, so the younger children sat at the corner's of the table. After a few words of prayer were said, the group was allowed to the serving area. Rowan's mother rushed to take her place at the middle of the long island covered with food.

Rowan's father brushed past him, murmuring "Why don't you go sit with the children?"

It was a tradition at the Springer's house that whenever more than one guest ate with them, Rowan had to go eat with his siblings any other children. The children would eat together at a small table in the "dining room." The room was really used as a storage room, but there was enough space for people to eat there.

Rowan groaned and began to object, but he closed his mouth because he knew it was no use. He wondered if there would be an awkward atmosphere between his parents and Nee without a teenager to loosen up the tension. He sighed and grabbed a plate from the stack, covering almost ever single inch of china with food. His balanced his plate of rolls, different types of meats, piles of mashed potatoes, corn, and a small portion of fruit salad as he poured cold milk into a tall, crystal glass. He slowly walked to the clustered dining room, setting his food on one of the five place mats. Nee came into the room after him, sitting in between him and her sister. Cherrie sat in between her two brothers, fumbling around with her utensils.

Rowan helped Cherrie by cutting the small fraction of meat she had on her plate, slicing it into pieces she could almost swallow whole. As he cut the last section, he noticed that instead of Nee and Rowan being the conversation makers, Oliver and Maple were the ones striking up a conversation. He popped half a roll in his mouth, chewing slowly as he watched Oliver leave to get seconds, bringing back silence. He wondered how much money it had costed to prepare such a big feast. Enough to make him sign up for tessarae? His forehead creased with worry, not wanting to raise his chances of being reaped.

"I wish we could of had made a cake together," Rowan directed at Nee, breaking the silence.

Images of them icing each other's faces swirled through his mind, making him laugh. He took a bite of fruit as a roar of laughter came from the kitchen. The 'rents must be hitting it off. Oliver walked back into the room with a half full plate, his face beet red.

Rowan knew that Oliver ate quite a lot of food for a boy his age, and he could only guess that he was the subject of the adults laughter. Somebody must have made a comment about his large serving of seconds, and Oliver scraped half of the food off his plate from embarrassment. Maple whispered something to Oliver, making his face turn back to normal color. The two laughed and continued chatting. Rowan kissed Nee on the cheek, smiling happily. "Too bad they aren't the same age," he chuckled, depositing a square of steak in his mouth.

As the idea of going on a double date with the younger pair popped into his brain, Rowan continued laughing. He was glad Nee's family had been able to come.

[gemmawolf]

***
There’s a faith in me it seems I had forgotten
Now I realise today, I’m starting to dream again
Again, was a matter of when
***

It was a few seconds before he replied with, “No, just a little clothing issue." She shrugged and waited patiently for him to emerge. He reappeared in a fresh shirt, took her hand and led her out of his room and slowly down the stairs. She struggled a little with her heels, almost tripping at the top, but recovered quickly. She couldn’t help but smile when Cherrie gasped, "She looks so pretty."

A true gentleman, she thought as Rowan pulled out a chair for her, not letting go of her hand until she was seated. The group gathered around the table, said grace, then were allowed to serve themselves. Nee shot up and dashed to the table, eager to get first dibs on her favourite dishes. She was shocked at the selection. A joint of beef and a leg of lamb, both roasted, sat on the largest of the plates, ready to be sliced up. She decided to go back once everyone else had got some, knowing that she wouldn’t have any restraint from taking half of the meat. She busied herself by piling potato, vegetables and her mother’s bread onto her plate. She saw Rowan and his father talking, and when she saw his reaction she guessed it wasn’t good news.

She went back to the beef and lamb and doubled the portion size she already had, then gratefully took the cold glass of milk that her sister poured for her. She followed Rowan into another room, wondering why they weren’t sitting with the adults. She took a place next to him, with her sister on the other side. She allowed herself to be greedy and dive straight into her food. She was already half way through when Rowan began to eat.

As Maple and Oliver chatted away, she brooded on the injustice of sitting separately from their parents. There are only four of them in there, why can’t me and Rowan join them? We’re sixteen for goodness sake! She sighed, partly from feeling full after wolfing down the potatoes and meat, but from frustration with herself as well. This is their home, it’s their choice and their reasons. Oliver got up for seconds, cutting off the small chatter that had been going on around them. "I wish we could of had made a cake together," Rowan said. She was about to answer that, so long as he has flour, eggs and sugar, they could just about pull one off, but laughter erupted from the kitchen.

Oliver returned, feathers ruffled and his face bright red. Parents, she guessed. Can’t they leave kids alone? Somehow Maple found words to cheer him up, though, and Rowan whispered, "Too bad they aren't the same age." She nodded in reply, but he began laughing. Probably the high spirits, she thought, shaking her head. I never understand half the stuff that goes through his head.

The laughter continued right through the meal and even when she was ready to go and get some dessert. Pecking Rowan on the cheek, showing affection but trying to embarrass him a little, she returned her plate to the sink, walking past the adults table and surveying the damage in the process. “Good grief! You haven’t eaten that whole plate, have you young lady?” It was Rowan’s dad that spoke.

She laughed sarcastically. “Oh yes. I need lots of energy for my work in the lumberyard.” She aggressively scooped some jelly, fruit salad and trifle into her bowl, turned on her heel and flounced back into the dining room, calling over her shoulder, “They’re planning to promote me to a woodcutter, you know.” She slammed the door for good measure, causing the others to look up, startled. “They’ve gone through two bottles of wine already.” They are content with the simple explanation.

She sat down heavily at her place and poked her food with a spoon. Have I just ruined any good terms I might have had with the Springers? Rowan’s siblings like me enough, but it isn’t their opinion that matters. She had forgotten how full she was in her strop, and asked Rowan to share the dessert with her.

(OOC: By jelly I mean Jell-O. Just clearing a possible language barrier.*shrug*)

[lyss]

.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.
Hey girl, I wanna give you a round of applause
You deserve a standing ovation
Cause you got me falling in love, and I'm your biggest fan, baby
.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.

Nee came back into the room, slamming the door as she did. Rowan, startled by Nee, accidentally swallowed a piece of meat whole. The children stopped talking, everyone's eyes on Nee. He didn't ask Nee what had happened, he could make out the basics by the look in her eyes. The situation was similar to what had just happened to Oliver. She practically slammed her plate on the table before adding, "They’ve gone through two bottles of wine already.”

Cherrie began to ask what Nee meant, but Rowan shushed her. He was annoyed at his parents. Teasing Oliver was harsh, but at least he was their son. Making fun of Nee? That was unacceptable. Rowan laid one of his hands over Nee's, giving it a gently squeeze. She looked up at him with a softer look than she had had before. She asked him to share her dessert, and he of course agreed.

They slowly ate the dessert, softly murmuring to each other about what had exactly happened while their siblings carried their own conversation. Rowan's father wasn't the kin of man who made remarks like that. He had respect for women, and it was something he prided himself in. He had always made sure his sons were nice to girls. Rowan also knew his father didn't like to drink more than one glass of wine. What was wrong with the man Rowan called his role model?

Rowan pushed the last piece of the sweet delicacy towards Nee, his stomach feeling upset. He could feel his lips turn down in a frown as his stomach started feeling as if somebody was tabbing it with knives. "I'll be back," he whispered. He stood up, grabbed his plate and silverware, kissed Nee on the cheek, and made his way to the kitchen.

When Rowan reached the trashcan, he slowly scraped his scraps into the bin. He managed to get into the kitchen through the back door, avoiding the adults in the process. To get back to the dining room though, he had to walk straight past the adult's table. He walked over to the sink and settled his items into the soapy water. He heard a roar of laughter and prayed that Maple or Cherrie hadn't followed him. He began walking towards the laughter, noticing that no other children followed him. They were simply sinking into their drunken state. Hearing footsteps, the adults quieted down, ready for another child to prey on.

Mr. Springer flopped one of his arms around, causing his wife to slap him. " If ya couldn't 'ell, I seed 'omin."

Rowan took shaky steps forward, intimated by his father. He had never heard his father use such slurred and messy language before. His father tried to push out a chair for Rowan by kicking the legs, but he only tipped it over. The chair landed with a loud crash and the parents burst into laughter. Rowan quickly raced over to the chair, settling it back into place, and sat in it.

His father grabbed an empty crystal glass from the center, pouring wine into with shaking hands. Much of the wine slipped around the cup, forming stains on the wooden table. They had to break out the red wine, didn't they? Rowan thought. He noticed his mother didn't even try to sop up the liquid with a napkin. His father carefully pushed the glass in Rowan's direction, sending more wine flying around the room.

Rowan's father grinned hugely before adding, " 'Ry it. Tastes goo."

Rowan looked around, waiting for another adult to interject. He had never drank alcohol in front of adults before. He took a sip, carefully smiling before taking another. his parents had no idea how much he drank. He wanted them to act as though this was his first time. He paused for tens seconds after each sip, hoping he was waiting the normal time of a first drinker.

Every time Rowan drinks, he always goes crazy with thirst. After about seven small sips or three large ones, Rowan's throat goes dry and scratchy. This is when he craves for alcohol. He began to feel the scratchiness inside his throat, and began taking large gulps, finishing the glass in seconds. His father refilled his son's glass three times before he came to his senses. Rowan had practically drained the bottle alone. Nee and the children were probably wondering what had happened to him. He had a feeling one of the younger ones in the room had taken a glimpse at Rowan, and that everybody knew his was slowly turning as drunk as his father.

Rowan slowly got out of his chair, making sure he didn't tip the chair over in the process. He slowly walked towards the dining room, trying not to do anything that would cause the parents to laugh. He opened the door slowly and softly before stepping inside. He slammed the door behind him and tried to compose himself. What he had just done wasn't the best choice. It was if he was in a war, his best friend had been killed, and he had a friendly conversation with his friends killer. Rowan hoped that he came off as angry at his parents, not drunk, but he knew he was too late when he heard a sound. The door bounced back open, swinging into Rowan. If he had been simply angry, he would've taken more care with how he slammed the door.

He softly closed the door, hoping that the others had been clueless to his slip-up. As long as he kept quiet and didn't knock anything over, he would be fine. Those were the obvious signs of a drunk. Rowan walked back over to his chair, being careful when he pulled it out, and sat down. he smiled at Nee, but tried to flash anger in his eyes, trying to keep up with whatever act he formed. Maybe the anger wasn't an act, though. He couldn't believe he had let his alcoholic craving overcome him at his own house. He couldn't believe he had sat with the adults who mad fun of his brother and Nee.

[gemmawolf]

***
I guess we all lose our way, now and then
You lift me up when I am falling
You’re my friend when I was calling
***

Rowan squeezed her hand, a secret message between them. “Don’t worry, Nee, they’re just drunk. You’ll always have me.” She smiled at him, sharing the dessert and telling him what happened in a nutshell. She wasn’t particularly fazed by the events; she had developed a hard shell against strangers over the years, ironically thanks to him. She still thought it was funny, in a sad way; how he carried a light for her for so long, and she just thought he was shallow. As it turned out, she was too judging, and hadn’t given him a chance. Still, they had moved away from that happily. Everyone does and says stupid things when they have too much to drink, she reasoned, wiping out the remains of the cream with her finger in the most unladylike manner possible. I’d be the same as them, I suppose. No, she wouldn’t – she wouldn’t even get into that situation.

"I'll be back," he whispered, kissing her on the cheek. Alright! Let’s see what he can do! Minutes ticked by, there was another round of laughter, and she began to wonder what on earth was going on. She sent Maple to have a peek through the door; her sister came back shaking her head.

“His father is filling him with booze,” she sighed, sitting back next to Oliver, who was clearly uncomfortable with the image his elders were setting for their guests.

Nee was fuming, biting the inside of her mouth to prevent herself screaming. She managed to calmly say, “Alcohol, Maple; ‘booze’ sounds common.” Well, we are common, aren’t we? Just average citizens. She didn’t really mean it, but someone had to act like a mother, seeing as two of them in the next room might as well have been distilleries from the amount of wine they contained. Again with the drink? She sighed, clearly agrivated, and buried her face in her hands. He knows! He knows what it does to him! She couldn’t stand by and watch Rowan poison himself over and over, pointlessly; it hurt her. He had no idea, but it physically hurt her to see him in that state.

As soon as he came back in she could tell that he was covering it up. Perhaps if her sister hadn’t reported on the situation then she wouldn’t have noticed. His face showed anger, but his slow movements just made him look odd; she sighed, ruffling her hair in frustration. This wouldn’t do. She wasn’t going to sit back and let him do this to himself; or her. She was going to deal with the situation in the only way she knew: head-on.

She played with his hair, acting casual but hoping that her dramatic skills were better than his. She cast a glance at her sister, urging her to take his attention away. The unspoken code that she had witnessed between the two brothers also existed in the Jackson household, albeit in a different form. The sisters were in tune, and both knew that when the other had a secret plan they needed back-up, a cover. Maple struck up a conversation about work in the lumberyard, cleverly avoiding Nee’s part in the chat by telling him that she already knew what her sister did all afternoon.

While his back was turned, Nee grabbed Rowan’s glass of milk, poured a good deal of salt into it and quietly stirred it up, nodding at her sister to continue. Although most of the alcohol was already in Rowan’s bloodstream, it wouldn’t hurt to remove whatever was lingering in his stomach. And throwing up would hopefully teach him a lesson, too. He won’t like it... she warned herself, but ignored it. I don’t like it when he’s damaging his body. True, occasional nights out and excessive drinking wasn’t particularly life-threatening, but don’t all addictions start off small? In truth she was deeply worried about him; worried about what she would do without him.

She drew her finger across her throat to tell her sister to finish up. “...and that’s why I want to be a baker.” She grinned. Excellent work, sis, she thought. Rowan’s drink was back where it had come from; all she needed now was him to take a long gulp, and to clamp her hand over his mouth to make him swallow it. Nee understood that it was their parents that were the main problem, not him, but she already had an idea of how to get back at them. She relaxed a little, enjoying the gentle stroll into the deceitful side of life, and waited for him to drink up.

(OOC: Oh, you’re so evil, Nee. >D)

[lyss]

.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.
I can't believe how, you got me open, that there's 25 hours in a day
Is it voodoo, that you use
That's got my tongue tied with no words to say
.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.

Nee began to play with Rowan's hair, and he smiled. Maybe she didn't know. If she did, he would undoubtedly be getting an earful right now. Somewhat randomly, Maple started telling Rowan why she wanted to be a baker. He angled himself towards her, not wanting to seem rude. He wanted to roll his eyes, change the subject, do anything, but this was Nee's sister after all. No need to upset Nee, especially when they were his guests. They could leave in an instant.

Rowan tried to keep his eyes on Maple, so it seemed as if he was paying attention. His mind had wandered off already though. He hadn't heard anything she had said until she loudly announced,“...and that’s why I want to be a baker.”

"Nice. I'm sure you'll be the greatest baker Seven has ever had," Rowan replied. He made sure to lace on even more compliments when he added, "But your sister will be a tough one to beat, you know." He leaned forward and said in a low voice, "All you need to do is put something like hot sauce in her cakes and cookies and you'll have no competition.

Rowan had practically foreshadowed what was about to happen to him. He leaned back in his chair with a smile. He noticed Oliver trying to catch Rowan's gaze. The brother's locked eyes before Oliver's eyes grew wide and shifted downwards. Rowan followed his gaze to his glass of milk, completely full. He nodded and smiled, silently thanking his brother. Their mother ranted on and on and on whenever anybody wasted milk, and Rowan didn't want a rant on such a special day.

He grabbed the glass, his hands instantly turning cold, and took a big sip. It tasted funny, in a been-sitting-out-for-too-long funny. He suddenly felt the big globs of sour milk in his mouth. He looked at the glass and his eyes grew wide. How could the milk had curdled in only an hour? His eyes frantically danced around the table, trying to find what he was looking for. Salt.

Rowan couldn't hold the globs in his mouth any longer. He opened his mouth, ready to spew, when Nee clamped her hand over his mouth, forcing him to swallow. He shuddered in disgust. He turned towards Nee, fury in his eyes. Why had she made him swallow the putrid thing? The only reason he could think of was because they were at a dinner table, and throwing up could lead to more people throwing up.

Rowan tried to make his eyes soften. He wasn't mad at Nee, and even if he was, it wouldn't last for long. He would be mad at whoever did this, though. He knew it couldn't be Nee; she would never do anything like that. The only person he could think of that would do that was Oliver. He saw his eyes when he looked at the milk. His eyes had been big, wide. He thought they were fearful, but maybe they were in excitement at seeing a prank work.

He pushed his chair out, standing up quickly. The chair began to wobble a little, but Rowan grabbed it quick enough. He looked straight at Oliver and grumbled, "Come outside, please, Oliver."

The two walked out of the room and into the kitchen, hiding themselves in a nook where nobody outside the room could see them. Oliver looked up at his brother with sad eyes, practically begging for an answer.

"What did I do?"

"You know what you did. You put the salt in my milk. You weren't warning me about leaving milk, you were trying to get me to drink your nasty concoction."

"That wasn't me!" Oliver argued.

"Then who was it?" Rowan begged for an answer.

"Nee," Oliver whispered.

[gemmawolf]

***
Now I’m on top of the world
Top of the whole wide world
Yeah, you always been believing
***

"Nice. I'm sure you'll be the greatest baker Seven has ever had. But your sister will be a tough one to beat, you know." He leant closer to her sister; Nee only just caught what he said. "All you need to do is put something like hot sauce in her cakes and cookies and you'll have no competition.” A twinge of guilt tugged on her heartstrings. He was joking, but she wasn’t. Yet there was no turning back when he swallowed the whole glass in one, especially when he knew something was off about the milk. She leapt forward, pressing her hands over his mouth and jaw until he swallowed it. A shudder ran though them both; she could sense how vile the experience was.

He glared at her furiously, and suddenly she felt miniscule, terrified. Is that twice that I’ve overstepped the mark? What if he dumps me? She began to feel sick herself, but it was more of a sensation than an actual feeling. His gaze softened, though, and she thought that things were going to be all right, until he stood up quickly and asked Oliver to join him outside. No, no, no! She wanted to object straight away; he thought his brother had done it! Had he dismissed her because he didn’t think she would ever be so cruel? Or thought it was her but couldn’t face being angry at her. Either way, they left the dining room and headed for the kitchen.

Nee looked over to Maple, who was staring daggers at her. “If he gets in trouble because of you-“

“He won’t,” she replied quickly standing up and following them out of the room.

"Then who was it?" she heard Rowan say.

Oliver hesitantly replied, “Nee.”

It’s time to intervene, she decided, joining them. “Yes, it was,” she said quickly, gripping a fold of her dress in her hands, “I did it. Go on Oliver, Maple’s waiting; sorry to keep pushing you around tonight.” When they were left alone she grabbed Rowan by the hand and yanked him outside through the backdoor, closing the door as quietly as she could so that they didn’t draw attention to themselves. She turned to face him, looking into his eyes. “I did it, it was my idea, and it was meant to bring you to your senses. You were drinking with them, weren’t you? Don’t deny it; my sister saw you. But I’m not mad about that, Rowan; I’m just upset because you keep drinking until you’re ill. You only just got out of bed this evening! You blacked out on the street! Every time you head off to a party you end up with a thick head and a little more damaged inside. What if one day it goes too far? What if one day...” She looked away, the tears starting to flow, angry at herself for nagging him like this. She gripped his hands in hers and whispered, “What if one day you don’t wake up?”

Her mind followed several paths that the conversation could take. He could break down in front of her. They could row. He could just shrug and walk away. Many other things were possible, including talking. If she knew him properly – and she was positive that she did – he would want to know how she felt, what they should do. She was trembling now, a mixture created from the fountain of emotions and the cool night air. I’m so scared for you. But maybe I’m just paranoid. “I don’t think you’ve got a problem, Rowan. Yet,” she added. “And I don’t want it getting to that stage, not now, not ever.” She held up her hand, showing the numbers. “143, remember? I love you. That means that I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

[lyss]

.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.
Cause lately, we've been spending time and baby I don't care
I'm into this, whatever it is, and I'm not tryin' to share
No, no no
.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.

“I did it, it was my idea, and it was meant to bring you to your senses. You were drinking with them, weren’t you? Don’t deny it; my sister saw you. But I’m not mad about that, Rowan; I’m just upset because you keep drinking until you’re ill. You only just got out of bed this evening! You blacked out on the street! Every time you head off to a party you end up with a thick head and a little more damaged inside. What if one day it goes too far? What if one day...” She looked away, the tears starting to flow. She gripped his hands in hers and whispered, “What if one day you don’t wake up?”

"What if, one day, you stopped worrying about me?" Rowan chuckled, on the borderline of falling into a drunken state.

Rowan stared at the floor, trying to diminish the pounding in his head. He knew he sounded bratty to nee right now; he knew she was already hurt. He shifted his weight from one foot to another multiple times, not bothering to fix his mistake. He knew he should say something, but right now it would come out in a jumble of slurred sounds. Nee held her hand up, the numbers burning holes in his eyes. 143.

“143, remember? I love you. That means that I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

"I know," Rowan mumbled, still staring at his feet, "and I love you."

He looked back at Nee as the last syllable was choked out, but he knew it was too late. He should have looked at her eyes as he said I love you. He couldn't pretend that Nee hadn't noticed; she noticed every little detail. He knew that now.

"I worry about you too though," he blurted out, looking right in her eyes this time. "I worry about the slightest things. Like if you are ever late to work by just a minute, I freak. When I see your sister enter the building, I worry immensely, but then I see you walk behind her and I'm washed over with relief."

Rowan meant every word of it. He did worry about little things like that. He worried about big things too, but he freaked more over slight things.

The pounding in his head flared up to an unbearable state. He winced slightly, trying to keep his mind cleared. He began to waddle out of the kitchen, whimpering with each step. Rowan bit his lip as he began to speed walk to the stairs. He contained the screams in his mouth as the pain surged all throughout his body, sending aches in every single inch of him.

When he finally reached his room, he carefully pushed his door open, hearing a small thud as he did. He smiled to himself, keeping his secret to himself. He always set his bottle of pills on the top of his door. Rowan raced inside, swooping down to pick up the bottle. Usually, he took only two, possibly three if the pain was very harsh. Now, though, as his vision began to blur, he poured five pills into his hand, putting them on his dresser. He walked back over to the door, almost shutting it. He left it barely open, just enough room for him to put the bottle on the small corner of door.

After making sure the bottle wouldn't fall off by itself, he went back over to his dresser and picked up the pills. He held them out, squinting at the small, white objects in his hand. He tried to count them, but only got to two before he heard a thump. He knew somebody had just opened his door, discovering him. Hoping they hadn't seen the pills in his palm yet, he put them in his mouth, swallowing them all.