Status: 36/51 chapters!
Music Girl
The Un-Merry Christmas
Aravic had a hard time getting to sleep on Christmas Eve. It wasn’t that he was particularly excited abut Christmas. It wasn’t even that Sam didn’t get home until around eleven that night.
Ever since they had gotten here, everything had felt wrong. It shouldn’t have, because they were in Boston and Sam was finally happy for the most part, but it didn’t. All around, he guessed he felt—there was no other word for it—awkward. He didn’t belong here at all; everyone could tell. And Sam acted so infuriatingly rude and daring around these people. Jacoby took her to some fight club one night and she came back with a nasty bruise covering half her face and her forearm sliced open, but she couldn’t have been grinning wider.
But when Sam finally crept into her room at eleven, so cautiously and a little vulnerable, Aravic glimpsed the Sam he knew. And he finally fell asleep.
-
“Aravic, are you gonna get up or not? Mom’s gonna make breakfast and there’s presents.”
Sam was shaking him roughly by the shoulder, pulling him out of his dreamless sleep. He yawned wildly and blinked his eyes rapidly. “Presents?”
“Yeah, and after breakfast we’re going over to Mama K’s,” Sam said, leaving. Aravic got up, pulling off the covers himself and yawning again. He swung off the pulled, pulled on a shirt, and straitened out his hair a bit, checking himself over in the mirror. He still wanted to look presentable—vanity was a hard habit to break.
He made it downstairs and saw Sam and her mom sitting in the living room. There was a small Christmas tree lit up and bright wrapping paper on the floor. Her mom was leafing through a new book and Sam was doing something on her phone. She looked up when he joined them.
“Ah, there you are,” Same said, picking up a small present and throwing it to him. “Happy Christmas.”
He caught it, puzzled. “Is this for me?”
Sam rolled her eyes. “No, it’s for me, I’m just too lazy to unwrap it myself.”
“I’m going to start breakfast,” her mom said, setting the book down and walking into the kitchen.
Aravic unwrapped his present. To his amazement, it was two actual audio discs. One was an Aerosmith CD, the other, Queens of the Stone Age.
“Jeeze Sam, these must have cost a fortune,” he said in awe, opening the case on the Aerosmith one to inspect it.
“Yeah, some poor soul is going to have a terrible credit bill.” Aravic frowned at her. “Oh, come on, I didn’t have any money! And this lady was just flashing about her expensive purse… you can’t tell me you don’t like them.”
“I do, but you didn’t have to steal someone’s credit card for me.”
“I only borrowed it—she won’t know what happened until next year.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“Yes I did, I’ve been terrible to you since we got here.”
“I didn’t get you anything.”
“Like I care. My father’s the richest man in the US.”
“True.”
After an excellent breakfast of pancakes, fruit, and bacon for Aravic, everyone migrated over to the K house, which was even more of a mess than usual. While the present exchange happened, Aravic found himself speaking, surprisingly, with Nicholah.
“Enjoying your Christmas?” Nic asked, offering Aravic some water, which he accepted.
“I guess. You?”
“I’m just glad everyone’s here together this time.” Nic sipped at his coffee. “This is the first one in ages.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, last Christmas, Jacoby was in the hospital with a fractured spine. That wasn’t pretty. Year before that, Alex was in jail for hi-jacking a car, and the year before that, Mama K and I were trapped in New York City for three days because of a blizzard.”
“You all sure lead interesting lives,” Aravic commented. After a moment, he said, “Look, I’m sorry about that whole thing—”
“Don’t be. You know now. Alex was just messing with you, he didn’t really mean to freak you out,” Nic said defensively.
Aravic frowned slightly. “Are you and him… ?”
“Yeah.”
There was a pause where Aravic tried to figure out what to say next. “So, uh, what do you do for a living?”
“I act and I’m finished up getting my degree to be a doctor.”
“Wow. That’s impressive.”
“Thanks.”
“Um… do you mind me asking how you got here? I mean, none of you look related,” Aravic said cautiously, hoping he wouldn’t offend Nic.
“No, we’re not. Mama K sort of adopted all of us. And well… I ran away from home. My parents couldn’t handle it when they found out I was gay. Alex’s the same way, but his dad beat him. Jacoby’s parents… I think they gave him away to pay their drug debts or something. I’m not sure. And Mama K just found Miryah on the streets when she was little. She has not idea who her parents are, and she’s been here the longest.”
Aravic stayed silent, unsure of how to respond. He couldn’t image living life after being dumped on the streets, or abused, or given away by people who were supposed to be your parents. Maybe this was why Sam connected so well with these people—they were relatable.
-
Aravic had left the party to go back to my house after a little while, something about checking his e-mail or whatever. But when he was gone for over an hour, I decided I should go check up on him. If he was off moping, especially on Christmas, Mom wasn’t going to be very happy with me.
“Aravic?” I called as I walked in the front door. There was no answer, so I tried upstairs. All the doors were open except mine, so I knocked on it. “Yo Aravic, you in there?” I asked. I heard shuffling inside, so I went in.
He was sitting on my bed with his laptop next to him, and he was rubbing at his eyes. “Sam,” he said half-heartedly, “what are you doing here?”
“Checking up on you.” I frowned. “What’s up?”
“I just… got an e-mail,” he said, sniffing slightly. I sat down, pulled his computer towards me, and started reading.
Aravic Mines,
It is my regretful duty to inform you that on December 19th, your parents Glinda and Vincent Mines were killed. The political rebels started a civil war, which at first simply delayed your parent’s departure, but the rebels shot down the plane your parents were in on their second attempt to leave the country.
Currently, their bodies are being sent back to the US from South Africa. A social worker will be in touch with you to sort out your future.
I’m sorry for your loss.
-Rob Steiner
Director of Regalism Mission Affairs
“Aravic, I—”
But I had nothing to say. I was stunned. After a moment, I swallowed and asked, “Are you sure this is real?”
“Yeah, I… I found the newspaper obituary,” he said thickly.
I bit my lip a bit. “That was the most insensitive letter I’ve ever read. And that’s saying something.”
“Yeah.” Aravic turned away from me.
Great. Now what was I supposed to do?
I tried a few times to say something, but everything I thought of was inadequate. I ended up setting my hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay. My dad likes you… he knows people who’ll get it sorted out.” I hope that sounded at least a little hopeful.
What a crummy Christmas present.
Ever since they had gotten here, everything had felt wrong. It shouldn’t have, because they were in Boston and Sam was finally happy for the most part, but it didn’t. All around, he guessed he felt—there was no other word for it—awkward. He didn’t belong here at all; everyone could tell. And Sam acted so infuriatingly rude and daring around these people. Jacoby took her to some fight club one night and she came back with a nasty bruise covering half her face and her forearm sliced open, but she couldn’t have been grinning wider.
But when Sam finally crept into her room at eleven, so cautiously and a little vulnerable, Aravic glimpsed the Sam he knew. And he finally fell asleep.
-
“Aravic, are you gonna get up or not? Mom’s gonna make breakfast and there’s presents.”
Sam was shaking him roughly by the shoulder, pulling him out of his dreamless sleep. He yawned wildly and blinked his eyes rapidly. “Presents?”
“Yeah, and after breakfast we’re going over to Mama K’s,” Sam said, leaving. Aravic got up, pulling off the covers himself and yawning again. He swung off the pulled, pulled on a shirt, and straitened out his hair a bit, checking himself over in the mirror. He still wanted to look presentable—vanity was a hard habit to break.
He made it downstairs and saw Sam and her mom sitting in the living room. There was a small Christmas tree lit up and bright wrapping paper on the floor. Her mom was leafing through a new book and Sam was doing something on her phone. She looked up when he joined them.
“Ah, there you are,” Same said, picking up a small present and throwing it to him. “Happy Christmas.”
He caught it, puzzled. “Is this for me?”
Sam rolled her eyes. “No, it’s for me, I’m just too lazy to unwrap it myself.”
“I’m going to start breakfast,” her mom said, setting the book down and walking into the kitchen.
Aravic unwrapped his present. To his amazement, it was two actual audio discs. One was an Aerosmith CD, the other, Queens of the Stone Age.
“Jeeze Sam, these must have cost a fortune,” he said in awe, opening the case on the Aerosmith one to inspect it.
“Yeah, some poor soul is going to have a terrible credit bill.” Aravic frowned at her. “Oh, come on, I didn’t have any money! And this lady was just flashing about her expensive purse… you can’t tell me you don’t like them.”
“I do, but you didn’t have to steal someone’s credit card for me.”
“I only borrowed it—she won’t know what happened until next year.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“Yes I did, I’ve been terrible to you since we got here.”
“I didn’t get you anything.”
“Like I care. My father’s the richest man in the US.”
“True.”
After an excellent breakfast of pancakes, fruit, and bacon for Aravic, everyone migrated over to the K house, which was even more of a mess than usual. While the present exchange happened, Aravic found himself speaking, surprisingly, with Nicholah.
“Enjoying your Christmas?” Nic asked, offering Aravic some water, which he accepted.
“I guess. You?”
“I’m just glad everyone’s here together this time.” Nic sipped at his coffee. “This is the first one in ages.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, last Christmas, Jacoby was in the hospital with a fractured spine. That wasn’t pretty. Year before that, Alex was in jail for hi-jacking a car, and the year before that, Mama K and I were trapped in New York City for three days because of a blizzard.”
“You all sure lead interesting lives,” Aravic commented. After a moment, he said, “Look, I’m sorry about that whole thing—”
“Don’t be. You know now. Alex was just messing with you, he didn’t really mean to freak you out,” Nic said defensively.
Aravic frowned slightly. “Are you and him… ?”
“Yeah.”
There was a pause where Aravic tried to figure out what to say next. “So, uh, what do you do for a living?”
“I act and I’m finished up getting my degree to be a doctor.”
“Wow. That’s impressive.”
“Thanks.”
“Um… do you mind me asking how you got here? I mean, none of you look related,” Aravic said cautiously, hoping he wouldn’t offend Nic.
“No, we’re not. Mama K sort of adopted all of us. And well… I ran away from home. My parents couldn’t handle it when they found out I was gay. Alex’s the same way, but his dad beat him. Jacoby’s parents… I think they gave him away to pay their drug debts or something. I’m not sure. And Mama K just found Miryah on the streets when she was little. She has not idea who her parents are, and she’s been here the longest.”
Aravic stayed silent, unsure of how to respond. He couldn’t image living life after being dumped on the streets, or abused, or given away by people who were supposed to be your parents. Maybe this was why Sam connected so well with these people—they were relatable.
-
Aravic had left the party to go back to my house after a little while, something about checking his e-mail or whatever. But when he was gone for over an hour, I decided I should go check up on him. If he was off moping, especially on Christmas, Mom wasn’t going to be very happy with me.
“Aravic?” I called as I walked in the front door. There was no answer, so I tried upstairs. All the doors were open except mine, so I knocked on it. “Yo Aravic, you in there?” I asked. I heard shuffling inside, so I went in.
He was sitting on my bed with his laptop next to him, and he was rubbing at his eyes. “Sam,” he said half-heartedly, “what are you doing here?”
“Checking up on you.” I frowned. “What’s up?”
“I just… got an e-mail,” he said, sniffing slightly. I sat down, pulled his computer towards me, and started reading.
Aravic Mines,
It is my regretful duty to inform you that on December 19th, your parents Glinda and Vincent Mines were killed. The political rebels started a civil war, which at first simply delayed your parent’s departure, but the rebels shot down the plane your parents were in on their second attempt to leave the country.
Currently, their bodies are being sent back to the US from South Africa. A social worker will be in touch with you to sort out your future.
I’m sorry for your loss.
-Rob Steiner
Director of Regalism Mission Affairs
“Aravic, I—”
But I had nothing to say. I was stunned. After a moment, I swallowed and asked, “Are you sure this is real?”
“Yeah, I… I found the newspaper obituary,” he said thickly.
I bit my lip a bit. “That was the most insensitive letter I’ve ever read. And that’s saying something.”
“Yeah.” Aravic turned away from me.
Great. Now what was I supposed to do?
I tried a few times to say something, but everything I thought of was inadequate. I ended up setting my hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay. My dad likes you… he knows people who’ll get it sorted out.” I hope that sounded at least a little hopeful.
What a crummy Christmas present.
♠ ♠ ♠
I feel bad for him ;.;