Chapter 2: Chapter 2
After a quick wash, I pull on a pair of lounge pants and a hoodie and rejoin Pippin in the kitchen. He’s perched on his usual stool by the breakfast bar with the book opened in front of him and a steaming cup of chocolate in his hand. I sit, grab my mug, and take a sip.
It’s perfect. Not too hot and extra sweet, just the way I like it. “Thanks,” I say.
He looks up from his book and shoots me a smile.
“What’cha readin’?”
Pink spots appear on his cheeks. “Twilight,” he mumbles and shows me the cover. “I didn’t buy it,” he hurries to add. “Someone forgot it at work last month and hasn’t been back to claim it, so Maggie said I could have it.”
Maggie is Pippin’s boss at The Friendly Bean, the coffee shop where he works as a barista, and she knows how much he loves books. “That’s nice of her.”
He nods.
“What’s it about?”
“You haven’t heard of it?”
I shake my head.
“It’s uh…” He squirms on the stool. “Vampires.”
“Like Dracula?”
He snickers. “Not quite. They’re teenagers. And the vampires glitter in the sunlight.”
“Sunlight? I thought vampires melted in the sun?”
“So did I, but apparently we were both wrong.”
“Huh. Glittery vampires. Who woulda thought?” I yawn and rub my eyes with the heels of my hands until tiny spots start dancing in my vision.
“Long night?” He closes the book and peers at me under the unruly bangs hanging over his eyes. He could definitely use a haircut.
“Mhm.” I yawn again. “We had a monster clog. Took me forever to fix. Almost expected to find a lost piece of luggage stuffed in the pipes.” It wouldn’t be totally improbable. People try to flush all kinds of shit at the airport.
He wrinkles his nose. “Sounds unpleasant.”
“It was.” I cross my arms on the breakfast bar and rest my forehead on them.
“You should get some sleep. I’ll go,” Pippin says.
“No.” I straighten and rub my eyes again. Then I make a quick decision; I pull out the drawer and grab the extra key for the house, and put it on the bar in front of him. “Stay until you need to go to work.”
I’ve meant to give it to him for a long time, but getting him to accept stuff, even little things, is a struggle. His pride’s got pride, so just reaching a point where he accepts a hot drink without me having to twist his arm has been an uphill battle.
His fingers twitch as though he wants to take the key, but he just keeps looking at it. I put my index finger on the key and nudge it closer to him.
“I…” He lays a fingertip on the metal and frowns.
“Pippin.” I soften my voice. “I worry when you’re sittin’ out there freezin’ your butt off, strainin’ your eyes tryin’ to read in the dark.”
“I’m all right,” he whispers.
“I know you are.” He’s more than all right. I don’t understand how he grew up to be such a great person, considering his childhood. “But do it for me?” That’s pretty much the only way to get him to agree to accept things from me—by making him believe they’re more for my sake than for his.
“Why?” He looks at me with furrowed eyebrows.
Because someone needs to look out for you when your mom is too busy screwing her latest sugar daddy to be able to afford to warm the house this winter. Because you’re so darned strong, working two crappy jobs and saving up what little you can spare for college. Because you’re too good for this shitty situation life dealt you.
Many times over the years, I’ve wanted to stomp over to Crystal Olander and yell at her for neglecting her son. I haven’t, of course. I always do my best to avoid situations like that; I’m not a confrontational guy. And Pippin wouldn’t approve. I never say a bad word about her to Pippin; he wouldn’t accept it. He’s the most loyal person I ever met and has nevercomplained about his situation. So I don’t either. But, Christ on a cracker, sometimes I’m biting my tongue so hard to stop myself from spewing crap about her, I’m afraid it’s gonna split in half.
“I care what happens to you,” is all I say.
The corners of his mouth turn up. “If you’re sure?”
“Don’t be an idiot.”
“Is that Ashley-speak for ‘yes’?” His eyes twinkle.
I nod with a chuckle. He’s the only one with the guts to call me Ashley. To everyone else, I’m Buck. Heck, even Ma relented and started calling me Buck when I was a sullen teenager who hated my girly name. But not Pippin. He claims Buck is a stupid hick name that doesn’t suit me.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone