Wren: What’s that one?
Ivan: You tell me…
Wren: An octopoop.
Ivan: [snorts] Close enough.
Wren: That one’s weird.
Ivan: That ain’t a tattoo, it’s a scar.
Wren: From what?
Ivan: Ohh, I don’t remember now-.. prolly chickenpox or somethin’.
Wren: [giggles] I gave Ava chickenpox.
…
Jude: It’s like she doesn’t even listen to me sometimes, n’ her stupid boyfriend doesn’t help.
[Robin clung to his pool noodle, ears ringing painfully. He knew too much already; he didn’t want to know more but it was impossible to tune out-.. like being forced to watch a gruesome car crash]
Jude: Who wants to go to some snooty grammar school, anyway? There’s even a test to get i-.. hey, are you okay?
Robin: Uh y-yeah, I’m fine…
Jude: Maybe we should get out, you don’t look so good.
[Collective noises of disgust – frantic splashing]
Oscar: It’s a rite of passage to hurl in a public swimming pool, bud.. don’t worry about it.
[Robin trudged after his father, hot with embarrassment. Disjointed memories weren’t quite enough to paint the entire picture of Oscar and Ivan’s past, but he’d seen enough to know it was bad-.. very bad]
Hey so. Things have gotten more complicated with my parents. I really really need to get out of here and away from them. I still am unemployed and I’m now unable to afford therapy. So I really really need support. My writing commissions are still open and I’m planning on doing art commissions eventually. I genuinely hate to sound desperate but I really really need help.