Realistic or Modern ♡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐁.

[low fidelity]

THE LOVE CLUB.

be a part of the love club,
everything will glow for you.

"I'm in a clique but I want out
It's not the same as when I was punched
In the old days there was enough
The card games and knees with the bitter salt of blood
I was in, but I want out
My mother's love is choking me
I'm sick of words that hang above my head
What about the kid? It's time the kid got free

Be a part of the love club
Everything will glow for you
Go get punched for the love club
For the love club

I joined the club and it's all on
There are fights for being my best friend
And the girls get their claws out
There's something about hanging out with the wicked kids
Take the pill, make it too real
The other day I forgot my old address
I'm sitting pretty on the throne
There's nothing more I want
Except to be alone

Be a part of the love club
Everything will glow for you
Go get punched for the love club
For the love club

Your clothes are soaked and you don't know where to go
So drop your chin and take yourself back home
And roll out your maps and papers
Find out your hiding places again
The only problem that I got with the club
Is how you're severed from the people
Who watched you grow up
When you're a member
Go on your great adventure again
And we'll be waiting at the end

Be a part of the love club
Everything will glow for you
Go get punched for the love club
For the love club."

"Good morning, students and teachers. I welcome you all back to another year at Montgomery Academy and Preparatory Institute, though I wish these times were not so grim. Today, we will honor the life of our fellow student, Jordan Ezekiel Young, with a candle-lit remembrance ceremony at 5 P.M. Everyone is encouraged to attend, so please, feel free to join us. Any after-class activities today, such as clubs and team meetings, will have their time cut short to accommodate for our ceremony. Thank you, and have a wonderful first day back with us."

​

It was difficult to walk through Montgomery Academy's sprawling campus without recalling the memories that lingered.

Sudden screams, the sounds of broken glass, people scrambling to run. Shrill sirens, flashes of red and blue lights. The drizzle of water that poured off of Jordi's clothes, trailing from the pool to outside as he is rolled away on a stretcher, black body bag zipped closed in one swift motion.

The first day of fall semester was, predictably, the same as every other year. A banner that read Welcome to Montgomery! Fall 2019' in crisp purple cursive hung above the double doors of the main academic hall. The smell of freshly cleaned floors permeated through the halls and classrooms. Wide-eyed first-years, brand-new to campus, hustled and bustled as they tried to find the way to their homerooms. Despite the regular first day craziness, there was a slight tension in the air. Students huddled into groups at their lockers, rumors falling from their lips, asking questions with no answers, theories nobody wanted to hear. The pool facilities, usually serene, now somewhat foreboding, were visible to anyone who walked through the south hall of the main building. Arranged at its entrance were tons of large, obviously expensive bouquets of flowers, multiple candles, small teddy bears, a varsity football helmet, handwritten notes and cards, and a large framed picture of Jordi Young.

Slowly but surely, the student body milled into their first morning class of the day once the bell rung. Even the academy's teaching staff seemed on edge, but nobody said anything just yet. The sound of a static riddled microphone rang throughout each classroom, and then the voice of headmistress, Vivetta Montgomery, made her announcement for the candle-lit ceremony. Barely a minute after the announcement concluded, whether a newcomer or a veteran, each member of the Love Club received a text message at the same moment.

The Love Club is meeting today to attend the ceremony in the clubroom. Be there.
- Cecilia​

​

What was usually regarded as a warm, comfortable space, the Love Club's clubroom was now full of dust and unresolved tension. It seemed as if nobody had entered it throughout the entire summer. Nobody, not even janitors apparently, had the guts to enter and be faced with the memories. But the wooden double doors had been decorated with large floral arrangements, photos, small stuffed animals, handwritten cards, all in remembrance for Jordi. On a dark mahogany table, it seems someone had wiped away a particularly thick layer of dust to set down a large woven wicker basket filled to the brim with white roses, old Polaroids, and a neatly written note. Cecilia's book bag was set in a seat nearby, but the Club's president so far was no where to be found.

coded by weldherwings.

 

[timshel]

• 1
• 2

• a heart's a heavy burden.
  

  orey reinhardt.
• 3:45
  Wednesday 4 September

  
  

  
  

  Helplessly Hoping

  
  

  Crosby, Stills, & Nash

  
  

  Mood: emotional, somber
  
  Location: the Love Club's room
  
  Outfit: school uniform (tailored pants, collared shirt, and a knit cardigan)
  
  Interactions: Cecilia & Hyacinth
  
  Tags: low fidelity

  
  

  In character

  
  The first thing he realized was that he was somewhere underwater.
  
  He didn’t have his glasses on, but he could see completely clearly: even his hands, close to his face, which grazed the smooth concrete, appeared sharp. Is this a pool? The fact that he was fully clothed under all this water didn’t strike him as particularly odd. I think it is. I must be dreaming.
  
  The second thing Orey became aware of was the dull pounding of music, muffled by the rushing water and bubbles in his ears. And then the lighting—it was nighttime. As he listened carefully, he realized the song sounded somewhat familiar. It wasn’t something he had in his music library, but it was definitely popular, on the radio, heard on the loudspeakers at parties. The bottom of the pool was dark, with only the odd ray of colored light breaking through the dark water.
  
  I should go up for air. It was a passive need, not like he was holding his breath, but Orey figured he would, for habit’s sake. He slowly began to turn over in the water so he could face the surface, but a large shadow a few feet above him obscured the light around it. He squinted at it, trying to make out details in the relative darkness.
  
  His eyes didn’t take long to adjust. It was undoubtedly Jordi, suspended on the surface of the pool, staring down at him with empty, lifeless eyes, his face puffy and bloated from floating there for God knows how long. His student, his friend. Orey screamed, the sound of it dulled as water rushed into his mouth. And there he was, suddenly paralyzed and drowning, staring up at the very picture of death in a friend. It suddenly felt as if there was a strong force pinning him to the concrete and no matter how hard he thrashed against it, it remained unrelenting. And just as he felt as if he didn’t have any air left in his lungs—
  
  Orey shot out of bed with a gasp, his morning alarm on his phone going off on the nightstand next to him. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, thudding dully in his ears as he caught his breath, not bothering to silence the alarm until he calmed down some time later. All of this had happened months ago, and yet his only nightmare about Jordi and his death happened on the first day of his senior year—his last first day. It seemed cruel to him that his subconscious waited too long to pull that card on him, but if there was anything he knew by this point, it was that his brain loved to torment him. He was reminded of it as he saw the blurry yellow outline of his prescription bottle on his nightstand.
  
  I need to call the pharmacy. I think I've only got a few pills left.
  
  Some unknowable time later, he finally put his glasses on and turned the alarm off. Waking up to that had already sapped a tremendous amount of energy out of him, and Orey knew he hadn’t slept well before the nightmare, anyway: the last time he checked the clock before finally drifting off, it was three o’clock in the morning. And with the usual set of stupid little icebreakers to start every class of new peers, today was going to be exhausting.
  
  Might as well get it over with.
  
  

  —​

  
  It took the young man an uncharacteristically long time to finish the New York Times’ Monday crossword puzzle. (The voice of his father echoed far away in his ears: “If you really want a perfect score on the SAT, you need to do every puzzle of the week.”) As he distractedly nibbled an apple—he didn’t have much of an appetite this morning—Orey cursed himself, since Mondays were always the easiest puzzles to finish. He scratched away at the blank spaces with his pen as students filled and then emptied out of the dining hall. Although he resolved to friends that he wouldn’t go to his first class until he finished each morning’s puzzle, he only meant that as a half-joke, and he began to worry as the morning announcements sounded out above him, echoing in the empty space.
  
  “Forget it,” he muttered as he folded up the newspaper neatly and slipped it into his backpack. Guess I’ll finish it at lunch… He hustled down the hall a little bit quicker than he normally would have, but thankfully, being late for homeroom usually wasn’t the end of the world. Of course, Orey was the last person to enter the classroom, and all the heads in the classroom turned to face him. He swallowed. Great.
  
  “Late to homeroom, Mr. Reinhardt?” The teacher—some physics teacher Orey had never interacted with before this—taunted. Shit. Maybe he wasn’t going to get off so easily after all. He dipped his head and murmured a small apology as he moved to his seat (the only empty one in the room). “You’re certainly off to some start, hm?”
  
  “I’m sorry, sir,” he answered from his desk. Usually tagging that last bit on the end was enough to charm the average teacher at this school out of a harsher set of words when he did push boundaries.
  
  The teacher moved to the computer at his desk. “Sorry isn’t going to cut it this time,” he answered, feigning some kind of sympathy, “And the Love Club isn’t going to get you out of this tardy.”
  
  He paused as he no doubt added a tardy note in the digital attendance sheet, and Orey flushed deeper pink with each keystroke he made. The rest of the classroom was silent around him, the usual murmurings absent. “Let this be a reminder to all that three unexcused tardies will result in an after-school detention…”
  
  Orey held his tongue, but clenched his fist lightly underneath his desk as the teacher droned on. He hoped this day wasn’t the beginning of some unfortunate trend, setting the precedent for a year defined by misfortune. But his mind wandered back to Ms. Montgomery's announcement this morning and wondered what was in store for them all.
  
  

  —​

  
  The end of the day couldn't have come quick enough. Even though he lunched with Cecilia and Hyacinth like he normally would have, the air between the three of them was different: instead of coming to his two favorite girls to laugh, blow off steam, and gossip, he found that trying to get a productive conversation out of them felt like pulling teeth. Orey could only force small talk for so long before giving up the effort and silently turning to resume his crossword puzzle. Perhaps today just wasn't the day to pretend like nothing was wrong—it was strange to think that was the case for this group, who always faked it until they made it.
  
  Days like these where Orey's internal equilibrium had been permanently thrown off frustrated him deeply, since his focus and attention in class were usually sharp and reliable. His head felt like static as he tried to think, struggled to keep up with the slides and couldn't even articulate the questions he did have. He shot out of his last class of the day like a rocket, making a beeline for the same clubroom the Love Club had occupied since his sophomore year at the Academy.
  
  It was still, stagnant, and dead silent. Even if he was the first to enter the room, the young man felt as if he was intruding on some kind of sacred space, and as he examined what looked to be a memorial basket, Jordi's presence overwhelmed him. Orey backtracked a couple of steps, sighing heavily as he ran a hand through his hair. Surprise tears began to sting the corners of his eyes.
  
  You gotta keep it together. Orey repeated that over and over in his head as he took drawn-out breaths, trying to steel himself once more, and he dried his eyes with the sleeve of his cardigan. Now's not the time. You've gotta lead a meeting.
  
  He nearly jumped as the clubroom door swung open without warning. "Jesus," he whispered just under his breath, but his expression softened when he recognized Cecilia. "Oh. Hi."
  

coded by weldherwings.

 

[erzulie]

”Reviens-moi.”

H

Hyacinth Abdella

(n.) a feeling of longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved & lost

SAUDADE

The white, warm ray of light shone through her window and the curtains of her bed just the same, revealing the beauty of the early morning sun as it steadily rose over the horizon. Her eyelids twitched, slowly and reluctantly she uncovered her face. Hyacinth woke up to soft silk sheets and sunlight streaming through her blinds. She laid down for a few more minutes however, taking a few moments to shed the remaining sleep from her brain. Eventually she managed to drag herself from the comfort of her bed. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand beside her bed and unplugged it from her charger. While checking the time she took note of the messages displayed on her screen, good morning texts from her admirers flooded her inbox. The messages were in a variety of languages, from French to English, to Amharic and Italian.

Clicking her phone shut she threw it on her bed carelessly, answering none in favor of gathering all of her morning essentials. Hyacinth was an early riser for multiple reasons but one of the main reasons was because of her routine, which consisted of a lengthy number of steps. With her clothes and beauty products in hand the heiress made her way to the communal bathroom. Luckily for her there weren’t many people because of the time.

Hyacinth made it back to her room an hour later feeling refreshed, energized, and ready to start her day. She sat in front of her vanity, moving on to the next step in her routine, skincare. Surely if she had been given a roommate the other girl wouldn’t have been able to sleep with Hyacinth moving around. Thankfully she hadn’t been forced to share a room, one of the many perks of being best friends with the headmistress’ daughter.

As usual Hyacinth made it to class on time but instead of her usually lively disposition she seemed rather...subdued. She could hear the whispers of the other students, feel their stares as she walked the halls and to her seat. Rumors tore through the school like wildfire through dry grass. While Hyacinth received no looks of accusation, the ones of pity were far worse in her opinion. Poor girl, having lost the love of her life before either of theirs has truly begun. It was akin to something out of a tragic tale of love and loss. Hyacinth refused to react. She was better than that, learned from a young age the art of masking one’s emotions.

She couldn’t help but become lost in her thoughts, or rather memories. She remembered the night clearly. The party had been in full swing, people dancing, mingling, and generally having a good time. She had been with Jordi, flirting with the young man as usual and charming him with her tales of her life in France and French culture. She had been so close to telling him about her feelings towards him when she had been called by her mother, thus causing her to walk away. The next thing she knew Jordi was face down in the pool, floating her unnaturally still. Hyacinth has never screamed so shrilly in her life.

When the authorities arrived she had been questioned and she had immediately complied despite how shaken she was. It wasn’t long before her parents found out. Her mother had been there to console her, while her father had called her into his office, only to tell her to comply with the police and that she was to remember how she should carry herself.

Hyacinth was suddenly pulled from her thoughts by the sound of the bell ringing. The young woman blinked, she hadn’t realized that she’d been out of it for that long. Swiftly she gathered her things and headed to her next class. Her day continued to go by in a blur and when it was finally time for lunch she was thankful for a small break.

Lunch had been a quiet affair for Hyacinth and her two closest friends. Usually they’d spend the time chatting amongst themselves, topics ranging from gossip to summer vacations, and the like. But now the air between them was thick with tension and sadness. Hyacinth had quietly eaten her lunch. She attempted to smile and chat with Orey as he spoke to them but despite how much she appreciated his efforts her smiles were strained and replies short.

Hyacinth spent her last class of the day barely paying attention and once the bell rang she had been one of the first ones out of the class, something that was unlike her. Once her eyes fell on the beautifully decorated doors Hyacinth’s eyes began to water, she quickly blinked them away however. She took a breath before walking inside, her gaze falling on Orey and Cecilia. “Salut…” Hyacinth spoke almost timidly. When she took note of the large basket on the club’s desk she swiftly looked away.

location: love club’s room
interactions: cecilia ( low fidelity ) orey ( timshel )

mentions: n/a
outfit: x

© pasta

 

[low fidelity]

Cecilia

❝the early bird gets the worm, but i have worms in mousetraps, baby.❞

mood: "get it together, bitch."
location: the love club's room.
song: life worth missing - car seat headrest.
outfit: her school uniform.
interactions: orey, hyacinth, and other club members.
tags: timshel erzulie

Cecilia could barely concentrate on her classes, or much of anything, throughout the day.

Her morning was quiet and uneventful. The girl woke up to her phone alarm beeping at her side, wallowed in bed for exactly a minute, and began her day without hesitation. Even after three years, she could appreciate the peace and quiet that came with her own dorm room. The extra space was glorious, and so instead of crowded up by two sets of furniture, her room was lovingly arranged with a plush grey circle rug in the center. Cecilia's room was her sanctuary. The school's communal bathrooms, however, made her skin crawl; if their dorm rooms could have their own personal bathroom, she would truly have no complaints. Nonetheless, after a quick shower and brush of her teeth, Cecilia returned to her room and found her phone lit up with a text from her mother.

'Buenos dias mijita. Por favor, ten un buen dia en tus clases. Se que las cosas ahoritas son dificiles, pero eres bien fuerte y vendran cosas buenas. Si necesitas hablar, aqui estoy para ti. Love you Cece. - Mom'

Cecilia curled her lip in slight bitter disgust. Her mother would say sweet, kind words, and never act on them. Even in moments like this, Vivetta had impossibly high standards for her daughter, always pushing her to be stronger, more resilient. She only responded back with a heart emoji and set her phone to vibrate. Any attempt to concentrate in her classes was lost, flashes of memories surfacing back up instead, even at the worst of times.

During summer break, investigators had talked to her and her mother numerous times. Vivetta cooperated, of course, but tried to keep Cecilia at a distance from the media frenzy and continued questions of the detectives. They seemed to think she was hiding something, and her mother did not want her to speak to them anymore under the excuse of "My daughter is already traumatized enough as it is!" But, Cecilia was technically an adult. One of the more persistent detectives had shown up in her dancing studio a month after Jordi's death, patiently waiting at the sidelines as the girls stretched and practiced, strict as army training. He quietly approached by the time Cecilia sat down for a break, mottled feet dunked into a severe ice bath. She didn't give him much more than he already knew, except the fact that Jordi was much more closed off than most students knew about. And then he asked, "Can you tell me what the Love Club actually is? It's just a popularity thing, right?"

At that, Cecilia sat up straight. "It's not just a popularity thing. The Love Club is school royalty, status over everybody else, because you are the best of the best. Either in academics, or sports, or something of worth."
"And you're the Love Club president, if I'm not mistaken. Does that make you the best of the school?"
"Yes, it does."
"Better than Jordan, then?"
"...We're done here."

Cecilia said nothing else, and the detective was escorted from the building. It left a bad taste in her mouth, like bile, because she didn't know if he was right or not. Yes, perhaps Cecilia was the top of her class, but she considered Jordi to be a much better person than she could ever be. Even in death.

The girl blinked, and found herself in her homeroom class of the day, listening to her mother's voice over the intercom. Despite the many eyes that turned to watch her, Cecilia didn't flinch, or show much emotion beside a slight downturn of her lips. While the teacher was concerned with writing their day's goals on the chalkboard, the girl pulled her phone from her blazer pocket and sent out a group text to the Club. They were going to attend the memorial together, whether they liked it or not. Soon, the class started, and she pulled out an organized binder. Her notes were meticulously organized from day one, handwriting a neat cursive, with plenty of highlighters and post-it notes. Even on the first day, Cecilia would already begin memorizing the class syllabus and figuring out her goals for the semester. And today, an attempt was made, but her mind was elsewhere. It felt like a ghost looming over her shoulder, only a couple of minutes walk away. In the paths of her memories, Cecilia could walk through the less-used halls of the academy, knowing each corner like the back of her hand. Soon, she would be outside, and approaching the swimming pool facility. The door would open by itself, and Jordi would still there, still floating—

Her homeroom teacher, a polished older gentlemen with salt and pepper hair, gave Cecilia a pitiful look when she didn't hear her name called the past three times. She answered his question without a pause, and she knew she needed a distraction.

There was going to be a party on Friday, some of the club members had very delicately mentioned it to Cecilia. The mere idea of a party repulsed her; it felt disrespectful to Jordi's memory to be celebrating again so soon. But as the day droned on, and her classes were dreadful, and the silence of her best friends during lunch was even more dreadful, she knew she needed something to occupy her mind for a bit. Alongside Orey, the pair had tried plenty of drugs before, she was no stranger to the rich party scene by any means. Cecilia, however, was disciplined. She knew when to let loose, and when to hold back. It was about time the girl let loose again, after an entire summer of staying in bed until someone called or showed up. Making others worry about her was a pet peeve of her. Cecilia needed to be at peak performance, at all times, and especially now during the troublesome times for her club. Maybe an edible and a few fancy cocktails were needed after all.

By the time the final bell rang, Cecilia made a beeline for the clubroom, a girl on a mission and the majority of the student body within the hall's parting for her like the sea. There was nothing about her at that moment that seemed approachable, and she even caught a few looks of pity. It made the bile in her stomach rise to her throat.

The sight of the club's heavy wooden doors made her stop in her tracks. As much as she wanted to be okay, to sweep through the doors poised and collected, and to stand strongly before the rest of the academy and keep it together, the constant reminders of Jordi were too much. It was all too much, all at once, as she stepped in and set her bookbag down alongside the floral arrangement her mother paid for. Her face felt hot, and a sob broke free from her chest, and the girl turned on her heel into the nearest bathroom. It's too much. Too many memories. He's everywhere. Cecilia swore she could see him around every corner of the school throughout the day. Sitting under the old oak tree in the courtyard, or browsing through each damn book in the library, or flicking paper footballs at her during class. And so many more of their time spent in the clubroom. Jordi was a ghost for her now, haunting the corner's of her eyesight, a lingering thought at the back of her mind.

Cecilia allowed herself to cry for two minutes, ugly choked sobs rattling her ribs and ripping from her chest before she began to control her breathing. She was quick to grab a few tissues to dab at her eyes before mascara could run a trail down her cheeks. The sight of herself so painfully pitiful in the mirror, face and neck blotchy and her eyes brimming with tears, was enough to make her sick. So fucking embarrassing, she thought as she fanned her face, willing away the redness, just get it together and get the day over with.

As much as she truly did not want to, the Love Club's president steeled her nerves and made herself as presentable as she could before entering the clubroom. To her surprise, Orey had already arrived, and his presence was both a balm and a burn unto her open wounds. She felt a bit guilty for their less than ideal lunch, but nevertheless, the girl gave him a smile and pulled him into a hug. She hoped it wasn't too obvious that she had been crying.

"Hey Orey. God, it's been a long day." Cecilia said quietly, and turned as the club door's opened to reveal Hyacinth. "There you are, lovely." She beckoned her friend over for a hug, already sensing the girl's upset mood. "Let's just get this all over with, yeah?"

coded by weldherwings.

 

[TheWaffleLord]

Elijah Kinsley

good things can happen
we'll be okay, you and me

location | hallway

outfit | xxx

with | ryan

mentions | francis, cecilia, ryan

tags | low fidelity oxytocin

Elijah barely opened his eyes. He muttered something unintelligible under his breath, brows furrowed as he blindly grabbed for his phone to dismiss the alarm. Grumbling noises trickled past his lips and seeped into his pillow. He didn't want to get up. It was hard enough being back after what happened, and staying in bed was such a tempting idea. He spotted this roommate, Francis, already up and about.

He said something or other, a greeting most likely, but the words seemed to meld together into a sentence Elijah almost didn't understand. He waved halfheartedly at Francis while trying to clear the fog from his mind. Somehow, he managed to push himself out of bed and onto his feet. He knew today was going to be especially difficult with Jordi's death hanging over the school.

The night when it happened was hard to forget. It was an End of the World party hosted by none other than the Love Club, of which Elijah was a member. Teens were rosy-cheeked, eager to dance and laugh their cares away. Everything had been normal—a blast, even. Then there was a bloodcurdling scream. He caught a glimpse of Jordi's body floating facedown in the pool and he quickly retched into the nearest trash can. The image was going to stay with him forever. Jordi was one of his friends, and although Elijah didn't know a whole lot about him, he knew he was a good guy who didn't deserve to die so young. No one did.

Like many others, Elijah was in shock. Nothing about the circumstance felt real until the funeral took place a week later. As soon as he saw Jordi in a casket, he burst into tears. It was a hard blow to the gut nobody could have prepared for. After being questioned by police, he had gone back home for the remainder of the summer—which was winter in Australia—but he lacked the shine in his eyes and the enthusiasm that normally adorned his face. Apart from friends and family, expressing his grief through art was the only thing preventing Elijah from spiraling down a deep hole. He had to keep moving forward.

* * *​

The morning was hazy and Elijah spent most of it staring off into space or doodling in his journal. Some teachers were sympathetic whie others were not, but they also weren't exempt from the somber atmosphere. When art class rolled in, he was almost relieved. They were tasked to draw anything they wanted, and such freedom was particularly rare from a teacher who liked to give prompts.

Elijah didn't even realize he was drawing a portrait of Jordi until the sketch was finished. He held his pencil tightly as tears welled up in his eyes. He looked toward the ceiling and breathed slowly. Was it normal to feel this upset? He couldn't even look at a simple illustration of him and stay composed. Suddenly the intercom at the corner of the classroom crackled to life and the voice of the headmistress came through with an announcement to every student.

A ceremony... Elijah could somehow feel the eyes of his fellow classmates on him and their looks of pity.

The bell rang. He closed his sketchbook. The teacher said something to the class as they filed out the door, but he wasn't paying attention. When his phone vibrated in his pocket, he stopped to lean against a wall and checked the notification. It was a text message sent from Cecilia to all the members of the Love Club, detailing a meeting that would take place after classes. He sighed and put the device away. After he thought of refreshing himself, it felt like his body was on autopilot as his legs carried him to the bathroom.

Elijah seemed to be alone since the tiled space was silent when he entered. He stepped towards a sink and reached his hands in; the faucet automatically turned on by motion sensors. He cupped his hands together, leaned down, and splashed cool water onto his face. He looked up at his reflection and saw a gloomy boy with droplets falling from his chin. That boy resembled Elijah, but didn't appear to be anything like him at the same time. He looked far too tired—defeated—to match his warm disposition.

He should've known it was a bad idea to close his eyes for long. Images of Jordi flashed across his mind. Most were of him smiling, but the last one would always haunt him. A knot formed in Elijah's throat. As he ducked his head to rinse away the coming tears, two boys stepped into the bathroom. He didn't mean to listen to their conversation.

"I don't know, but isn't it a little suspicious?"
"Yeah, I get you. I mean, it happened at their party."
Elijah's skin prickled. He lifted his head, and in the mirror, saw the two boys with their backs turned to him while they stood in front of the urinals. They hadn't seen his face when they came in and thus weren't aware of Elijah being in their presence.
"Right. The Love Club has always been unclear about what they do, too. As fucked up as it is...maybe they did have something to do with his death."

Elijah didn't turn around. "Is that what you think?"
The boys seemed to recognize him by voice alone because they were startled when they glanced over their shoulders. Their mouths fell shut.
"Please," he added sadly, "don't make it seem like we're not grieving. We lost a friend." He patted his face dry in silence and left the bathroom. There was a bitter taste in his mouth.

* * *​

Lunch period was just as somber. Elijah's appetite had waned throughout the day, so he didn't eat much. He sat next to Francis and spoke his mind about something he never said out loud. He told him he was scared. Scared of the very real notion that someone murdered Jordi. As much as he didn't want to believe it, the police deduced he didn't actually drown. There was foul play involved. Francis's words gave him some comfort, at least.

When Ryan arrived at their table, she was a ray of sunshine parting through their rainclouds, but her eyes seemed a little different. Although he talked to all his friends to make sure they were okay over the summer, it was Ryan who he was worried about the most. Elijah knew her well enough to know that she'd put on a smile to make everyone feel more at ease before herself. They hugged each other so tightly it was as if they hadn't seen each other in years. The three of them talked about unrelated subjects to lighten the heavy atmosphere, but it still lingered.

The remaining classes were over quickly. Elijah felt drained, yet the day left much to be resolved. He wanted a nap. He stowed his belongings in his locker and headed for the Love Club room by himself. He had no doubt in his mind that it was going to be decorated in remembrance of Jordi, much like the entrance to the pool facility. He wasn't ready for another bout of tears. Suddenly he spotted Ryan in the distance and sped up his stride to catch up to her.

"Hey," he greeted with a gentle, tired smile. "I guess we're headed for the same place now, huh?" Elijah paused for a moment and considered. "D'you mind if I hold your hand, Ry? Honestly, I'm gonna need all the support I can get by walking in there... And I don't think I'm ready." He held out his open palm to her as they walked side by side. Without words, his eyes expressed, I'm here for you, too.

coded by weldherwings.