Chapter 1 - Rick O'Brien

“Rick,” his mom called. “You’re going to be late again.”

“I know,” Rick said, pulling on his jacket. “I know. Sorry, I’m going.”

“I’m going to be home a little later today,” he said hastily, tying his shoes a little less than tight and grabbing a biscuit off the table. “I hope that’s okay.”

“So long as you pick up some groceries,” his mom said, offering him an old, crinkled receipt where she had written a list on the back. 

Her dark hair was in a disheveled bun, her eyes ringed with wrinkles and a pale sleepy purple. The smile she gave him didn’t reach those eyes.

“Have a good day, kids,” his dad called. He didn’t look up from the newspaper as he squished out another cigarette. The kitchen smelled like ashes and week-old spaghetti still sitting in the trash can.

Rick did a quick sweep through his sandy blonde hair, brushing it as best as he could with his fingers, and met his sister at the door. She eyed him with impatience as he scooped his backpack off the hallway floor.

“Sorry,” he said, blinking the tired from his hazel brown eyes. “Let’s go.”

“Here.” Vivien thrust her arm out and caught him in the chest. In her hand was a brown paper bag. His lunch.

“Thanks, Viv,” Rick said with a tight-lipped smile. He was grateful, but he was the older brother. He was supposed to be taking care of her, and not the other way around. Rick berated himself mentally and pushed through the door and out of the small, dingy apartment.

A heavy downpour of rain blurred the cityscape. The dull gray silhouettes of skyscrapers and buildings contrasted the collage of lights reaching through the haze.

Rick led the way, Vivien trailing after him through the puddled hallway that turned its way to the elevator. She was a head shorter than him, with caramel colored hair that she brushed behind her ear, the silver hearing aid just visible. She reached up and turned it off.

“The rain,” she gestured, noticing Rick watching her. “Too much background.”

“Ah,” Rick nodded in understanding. He pressed the well-worn elevator buttons four or five times and then sighed. He rubbed his eyes and tried to convince himself he was actually awake.

“What kept you up so late?” Vivien asked. She seemed so much more comfortable signing now than she had a year ago. If Rick hadn’t known her, he might have thought she’d been using sign language all of her life.

“Just…” Rick glanced away. “Just a little something, don’t… don’t worry about it.”

“Well, now you’ve piqued my curiosity,” Vivian peered up at him, her honey-colored eyes watching his face, his expression, the way his mouth moved. “Show me.”

Rick opened his mouth to argue, but he couldn’t. He sighed and his sister cracked a smile. She knew she had him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out what he had spent most of the night working on.

It was a necklace. A small copper chain that held a blue crystal wrapped in some copper wire. It was small, and it was simple, but it was just how Rick wanted it to be. 

He’d spent hours contemplating the idea, and then spent days working up the courage to do it. It had to be perfect.

This was actually his third attempt. He kept crafting the necklace and deciding that something wasn’t quite right. 

Maybe a leather cord wasn’t what he was going for. Maybe copper wire was better than silver wire. Maybe she wouldn’t like it, or maybe Rick was just afraid.

“Oh wow,” Vivian nodded, eyebrows raising. “That’s actually good. Pretty, I mean. Who’s it for?”

“No one,” Rick lied, and the elevator dinged. He stepped inside and grumbled to himself as he pressed another button. Why did she have to be so inquisitive?

“It’s obviously for someone, because you aren’t wearing it.” Viv crossed her arms. “Is it for a girl?”

“No…” Rick swallowed. “I mean, yes… yes, it is.”

Vivian bobbed her eyebrows, then she brushed two fingers down her chin and cocked her head in question.

“Yeah, I think she’s cute,” Rick’s cheeks grew red with embarrassment.

“Do I know her?” Viv asked. “Have I seen her before?”

“Probably not,” Rick shrugged as the elevator shuddered to a stop. 

They stepped outside and followed the catwalk along the outside of the building. The downpour was so intense that even under the thin metal roof, the residual splashing still soaked their pants. When they reached the end of the awning and faced the open sidewalk, Rick realized with a groan that he had forgotten an umbrella. He was wearing a light jacket, but was still going to get soaked.

Behind him, Viv opened up her umbrella, and rolled her eyes, holding it over his head as they walked the three blocks to school. 

Rick made a gesture with his hand that was like blowing a kiss. Their walk was quiet, as the rain was so loud, splattering against the streets and rushing down the storm drains. When they finally arrived at the awning just outside of school, their socks and shoes were soaked through.

“Will you be okay coming home?” He mouthed and half signed. He still wasn’t very good, but at least he was trying. She looked around for a moment, surveying the area, and genuinely considered his question.

“Should be fine,” she nodded.

Rick nodded back and gave her a small wave before heading off towards class. His shoes squeaked on the polished floor as he followed the last straggling students into the classroom.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally sat down. His was the one by the window, towards the back. He took off his damp jacket and set it aside before surveying the other students in the room.

She wasn’t there yet.

Rick reached into his pocket and held on to the little necklace. It comforted him. Maybe because it was the only evidence of courage he had. No, he hadn’t given it to her yet, but he was going to. For sure this time.

“Alright everyone,” Miss Anderson said, waiting on the class to settle down. Just as everyone got seated and quiet, a pair of squeaky footsteps echoed outside. The door opened, and Taylor Hanson entered the room. Her canvas rucksack hung off one shoulder, her army green tank top two shades darker and as dry as the hem of Rick’s pants.

She was breathing hard, and her diamond blonde hair was in a wet and straggly ponytail. Her skin was an amber color, still glistening with drops of water.

“Glad to see you didn’t get washed away, Taylor,” Miss Anderson said. “Have a seat. Let’s get started.”

Taylor sat down at her desk and brushed the wet strands of hair off of her face. She had band aids on two of her fingers, and a grease stain on the side of her tank top. She turned to Rick and her eyes met his, and for a moment he forgot how to breathe.

Her expression was akin to that of the marble statues outside the Old York Museum. She didn’t smile, but she wasn’t unhappy. She didn’t frown either, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t mad. Her face was a blank slate, and Rick was never sure what she might be thinking.

But while her skin was the color of warm sand in the southern desert, her eyes were the color of the sparkling oasis water. Bright blue, and almost glowing, just like the crystal in his pocket.

When Rick had first noticed her, like really noticed her, it had been those eyes that caught his attention. It had been raining that day, not as much, but it had been. All the little details came to Rick’s mind as he drifted off into thought.

It was chilly and damp that day. His dad had sent him on an errand to the mechanic down the street. He remembered the rain smearing the ink on the napkin he’d been given with the address. He’d stood in front of Harold’s Garage, an old tin building with more rust than paint, and two of the letters flickering on the neon sign.

The bell chimed as he stepped inside, hoping he was in the right place because it looked a little sketchy. The room was dimly lit, junk piled up along the dark green walls with different shades of paint covering what might have once been holes. All across the floor were stacks of tires, bottles of cleaning spray, and greasy old rags.

The open garage section in the back was just as dim, save for a few yellow cones of light hanging from the cobweb ceiling. They illuminated a few cars in various states of disrepair.

A loud clanking and a frustrated grunting came from underneath one of the cars. Rick stepped forward, tentative.

“Um, hello?” He asked, and the first time his voice was quiet and squeaked a little, so he asked again.

“Just a sec.” The voice was strained, and a loud banging ensued. Rick flinched at the sound and took a step back as someone rolled out from under the car.

It was a girl. She wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand, smearing her forehead with grease. Her appearance was messy, oil and grime covering her clothes and skin. Her eyes, though, were crystalline. Clean. Unlike anything Rick had ever seen before.

“Can I help you?” She asked, standing. Her voice wasn’t unfriendly, but her face betrayed no emotion. It bore none of the signals Rick had learned to read when communicating with his sister.

“Yes, please,” he stammered, and his tongue felt sticky in his mouth. 

“I’m just, uh… here to pick up something for my dad.”

“Cool,” she said, turning away from him and crossing the treacherous tire covered floor. 

“You must be O’Brien?”

Rick nodded. He couldn’t even remember what he’d gone there to get, but as he walked home, he couldn’t help but feel the world wasn’t so bleak and drear anymore. 

It was different. There was color and he noticed it, and every time he saw blue, he saw her. Taylor stood around every corner and brought living color to his world that all too often seemed black and white.

“Rick…” His daydream began to blur and fade away as he thought his name was called. “Mr. O’Brien.” 

He jolted upright and winced as he noticed everyone in class staring at him. Miss Anderson was pointing at the board, an exasperated look on her face.

“I’m… I’m sorry. What was the question?” Rick kept his eyes down.

“We were talking about magic-based creatures of the East,” Anderson repeated. “How many known species are there?”

“I… uh, five,” he started to say, then counted on his fingers and shook his head. “No, no, there’s seven, right?”

“That’s correct,” Miss Anderson nodded. “Now, does anyone want to explain what makes these creatures magical in nature…?”

The school day, for all intents and purposes, was rather good, but Rick couldn’t help but feel distracted. The necklace was pervading every thought. When would be the right time to give it to her? How would he say what he needed to say?

He played out scenario after scenario in his mind, but each one ended in some vision of disaster, each one more fantastical than the other. Rick simply could not imagine himself giving Taylor the necklace and telling her how he felt. Maybe Taylor saw it all coming, and she rejected him before he could even say anything. Maybe he slipped on a banana peel and fell and died. The last thought was admittedly not as feasible, but still a possibility.

The one good thing in Rick’s mind was that after their initial meeting, they acknowledged each other at school. They would catch each other’s eye in the hallway, and eventually that turned into a small nod, a wave, and even sometimes a greeting.

He’d even visited the garage once or twice more. Each time coming up with a more ridiculous excuse as to why he was there. He needed a spark plug, whatever that was, or a coupon on his next repair (they didn’t actually have those.)

They’d talked enough that he was willing to call them acquaintances, and perhaps they were even on the verge of friendship. They would talk every now and again, mostly about mechanical things, or the weather, and even though Rick had even less than the slightest interest in either of those things, he was more than happy to listen to her talk about them.

She was passionate, more about mechanical stuff than the weather, and Rick liked that because it was something he wasn’t sure he had.

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d talked to anyone about something he was passionate about. His dad was too busy going to work and the bar, and his mom was always busy around the house, or exasperated by dad. Vivien, of course, well… she had her own difficulties to worry about, and sometimes that made it hard… well, harder to talk to her.

When he put it like that, Rick realized he didn’t have too many friends. He frowned at that.

“You good?” The voice came from behind, and when Rick turned around in his seat, he came face to face with Taylor. She was standing behind him, but she was looking out the window at the rain pattering against the glass.

“Oh, hey, uh, hey Taylor.” Rick stood up so fast he hit his knee on his desk. “How are you?” He grimaced.

“I heard it was supposed to rain the rest of the day,” she turned towards him. “Figured I would hit the shop, work on some things.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rick asked, and he felt stupid, but it was all he could muster. Was she perhaps implying something? Was she wanting him to come visit? He made the move before he could think long enough to stop himself. “I might… you know, I might stop by later or something. If that’s cool with you, I don’t wanna impose.” He winced again, but this time, the pain came from his own words.

“Looking for more coupons?” she asked, and her level tone had just enough of a rise at the end to insinuate a joke.

His face heated in embarrassment. He remembered that moment a little too well. But this was progress. This was a breakthrough, a big one.

“You should,” she said, and walked out of the room. Rick watched her go, and when she was gone, he slumped down into his seat. His face was no longer warm, but burning.

“I should…” he repeated to himself. Then he sat up with a start. He should, because if he did, then that would be the PERFECT time to give her the necklace. Rick pulled it out of his pocket and held it in his fingers like it was a good luck charm of some sort. Maybe today would be the day.

Because Rick O’Brien liked Taylor Hanson, and perhaps he could be brave enough to tell her that.