025. CINEMA // PEANUT

"Rory, get away from the window! Stop stalking people," her grandfather would have said.

Turning her head over her shoulder, she didn't see the grumpy man in his chair, watching the baseball game. Countless others had told her that time heals all wounds. But even at twelve years old, she knew it was a load of absolute bullshit.

Plenty of time had passed, and it never got any easier.

Her grandfather's chair had been deserted since she was a kid, but it was never easier to see it empty.

The kitchen had been without the constant scent of vanilla and freshly baked goods wafting through the air.

No one came through the door on holidays or to surprise her on her birthday.

Plenty of time passed to heal all those wounds - she did everything the counsellors and therapists had said, yet nothing worked.

She never cried or shed a tear in public because she knew how it made him feel to see her upset. It ruined him and shattered his heart to know she was still hurting inside after all this time.

With so much loss at a young age, only one person remained in Rory's life.

And every day, she stood by the window and waited for him to come home.

The house phone rang, causing her stomach to knot with fear. She hated when the phone rang, and he wasn't home. She was terrified to answer it and have it be that call, the kind that meant he was dead and never coming home again.

That was how a twelve-year-old secretly lived her life - constantly fearing that the last person she had would die. What else did she know? Everyone else was gone. She didn't have any grandparents left—no Uncles or Aunts. No cousins. No brothers or sisters.

Without him, she had no one. Nothing.

No one could tell the dark thoughts ran through her head. Aside from the counsellors telling her time was the cure for her wounds, they told her Dad to keep her enrolled in all the after school activities she used to enjoy. Soccer, ballet, math and science club. She hated them all, but she showed up to class every day with a smile because it made her Dad happy to see her busy. Besides, he was the one that dropped her off and picked her up, worked extra hours to afford it all, and attended every showcase, competition, or game.

He was always there.

And yet she still feared that one day, it would all end.

That's why she hated it when the house phone rang, and he wasn't home.

Because if it were that call, her entire world would shatter into pieces. And with everything she kept inside for his sake, she had no idea how she would ever function normally again.

Unknown to her at the time - Rory would never have to answer that call.

She took a hesitant step away from the window and picked up the ringing phone.

"Hey, Peanut!" her Dad greeted from the other end of the call. "I'm on my way home. I will be about... ten minutes! Promise!"

"Did you get everything?"

"You know I did, kiddo."

"Even the sprinkles?"

He chuckled. "Yes, Roro. I could never forget about the sprinkles."

"Just making sure, Daddy!" She returned her gaze to the window. "You said ten minutes, right?"

"You got it. I'll see you soon. Love you, Peanut."

"Love you too."

Ten minutes.

Not knowing the time made it hard. But knowing made it even worse because the second it was past the time he gave her, her mind would go to the darkest depths possible. Sometimes she wondered what would happen if he never made it home - she even thought of all the ways she could join him if he didn't.

When his ten minutes were up, Rory started to panic.

It was the same thing every day. She always worried whether he was a few minutes late or a few seconds late.

This is it.

But it never happened.

Tonight, like all other nights, was the same. Truck lights illuminated the driveway; spotting the familiar shade of red eased her mind. Aidan appeared in the doorway - this time with a bag of groceries. Rory squealed with happiness and ran toward her Dad.

"There's my Peanut!" he said, pulling her in for a hug. "Ready to bake?"

"Always."

"Atta girl. Come on."

Following him to the kitchen, she sat on the counter and watched him take all of the ingredients out of the bag.

"Did you have a good day at school?"

She nodded.

"Mr. Padden called me today. He said you're flying through coursework again and thinks it would be a good idea to move up another year in math." Aidan opened a cupboard and searched for the mixing bowl. "What do you think about that?"

"Okay."

"Do you want to?"

Noticing the proud smile he had, she nodded.

"Look at my kid going ahead three years in math! I always knew you got my brains!"

Rory knew it would make the taunts at school worse, but she liked seeing how happy he was of her. Teenagers were cruel - especially to the weird brainiac child who ended up in all their classes. Eventually, they would get tired of snickering behind her back or shoving her in lockers - or so she hoped.

"I'll get you into that school next year, okay?"

There was a private institution for kids like her that was a forty-five-minute drive away. She was smart enough to get in; that was a given. But the financial aid barely helped cover a month of tuition, and Rory knew they were already scraping to get by on her Dad's paycheck. There was no chance they could ever afford to send her there.

And so, she replied the same way she did every time it was brought up.

"I'm happy at my school," she lied, opening the box of cupcake mix. "My teachers are good," they were inadequate, "the food is yummy," it was barely edible, "and all my friends are there," she had none.

"Are you sure?"

She gave him her signature nod and began to whisk the ingredients in the bowl.

"Would you tell me if you weren't happy there?"

"Yes." She wouldn't.

He already did far too much for her - she didn't need to add the burden of paying for some fancy school for smart kids to his long list. She could handle the taunts and the torment. After all, she knew they were only pissed off that she was more intelligent.

The two snuggled on the couch and watched one of her favourite shows while waiting for the cupcakes to bake. Aidan always said he would be sad the day she decided to hang out with her friends on a Saturday night instead of him. But she knew that day would never come.

She would never miss out on the opportunity to be with him.

Hearing his cell phone ring, Aidan paused the show and answered the call. "Hey, what's up?" he said into the device. "Come on, Al. Can't someone else do it? I got cupcakes in the oven, man!" Aidan tapped his foot impatiently. "No! You can't turn up the heat to make them cook faster!" Covering the speaker, he looked down at Rory. "Right?"

She nodded.

"Because, Al, that's not how it works!" He let out a sigh. "Alright, alright, fine. But I'm not leaving until they're done... Yeah... yeah, okay... bye." Aidan hung up the phone. "Sorry, Peanut. There's an emergency roadside pick-up I have to do."

"Can I come with you?"

"You want to?" he asked, surprised by her question.

Rory nodded.

"Of course, you can! I'll even let you pick the music."

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

"You betcha. Now, put something warm on and grab your coat. It's a chilly October night, and I don't want you getting cold in the truck."

Hurrying off to her room, she did just as he instructed. Layering a sweater under a warm jacket and adding a scarf, mitts and a hat just in case, she hurried back to the main room, surprised to see her Dad singing by the front door.

Aidan had iced a cupcake and put a candle on top for her. "I didn't want us to leave before you got a chance to blow out your candle."

"My birthday isn't for a few days, Daddy."

"I know that. But Saturday is always cupcake day. And the Saturday before your birthday is always when you blow out an extra candle. So, come on now. Make a wish."

Rory closed her eyes, thought of her wish and blew out the candle.

"What did you wish for?"

"I can't tell you!"

"Did you ask for a million wishes?" he asked. "Because I tried that once. And let me tell you. It did not work!"

Rory was in a fit of giggles as they walked towards the truck. Helping her into the passenger seat, Aidan made sure she buckled in before hurrying to the other side. She swung her legs back and forth, listening to the engine revive itself awake as her Dad turned the key. Before she knew it, they were off on the drive with her favourite songs playing in the background. Her eyes focused on the window, watching the neighbourhood pass by as she hummed along to the music.

"Come on, Peanut. I know this song is your favourite!" Aidan turned the volume dial. "Lemme hear you!"

"Home feels like Seattle when I'm with you," she sang along to the music playing through the car speakers.

Looking over at her Dad, the kid was full of smiles, and he sang with her. She loved moments like these with him; she cherished moments like these with him. But the poor child had no idea it would be the last.

Rory never got that phone call because she was there when it happened; she saw him die.

Her smile faded as bright lights glared through the driver's side window. She shielded her eyes. Her arm extended as she pointed and screamed, "Daddy, look out!"

A blood-curdling scream escaped.

Everything was dark around her.

Did she die with him?

Why couldn't she breathe?

It took Rory a few minutes to realize she wasn't in the car.

She was on her bed, sitting upright with her knees tucked into her chest and hands tangled in her hair, pulling at the root. Her breathing was rapid and short, her chest tight and constricted. It was like a string tied tightly around her lungs, making it impossible to function properly, let alone breathe.

When arms that weren't hers wrapped around her body, Rory realized she wasn't alone. 

Shit. Shit. Fucking shit! the voice in her head screamed. 

No one ever saw her like this - being vulnerable and afraid.

Harry didn't make her feel weak and small for crying. Silently, he pulled her against his chest, moving his hand down her back, and she cried. "It's okay," the soft sound of his voice whispered, "You're okay, Rory."

She cried uncontrollably, to the point that she feared it might never stop.

"Breath, Rory," he said, stroking her hair. "In through your nose, out through your mouth. Come on. Try it with me."

I can't!

Her entire body began to tremble in his arms.

"In through your nose... Out through your mouth."

I can't fucking do it!

"You're okay, Peanut."

Rory lifted her head and looked to the side, hearing the familiar voice echo throughout her room. For a split second, she thought he was there; his voice sounded so real. But as her eyes searched the dark space, she feared it was her mind playing a trick.

Dad?

"I'm here."

Why can't I breathe?

"Listen to him. He's trying to help you."

It's hard. I'm scared.

"You're strong - you can do this. But I need you to promise me one thing."

What is it?

"Trust him, Peanut."

A draft sent a shiver up her spine, and she knew he had vanished. Whether real or not, she cherished the moments she heard her Dad's voice; he had never steered her wrong before.

Listen to him, her father's words repeated in her head. Trust him.

Rory looked to the side. Listen to him. Immediately, she noticed his shirt was soaked with tears. Trust him. How long had she been crying?

"There's my girl," Harry said, a smile crossing his lips as their eyes met.

She liked it when he smiled; it caused something warm to spread throughout her chest whenever it appeared. Why that warmth flooded her body, she didn't know. Maybe it had something to do with her Dad's voice, telling her to listen and trust him. Or maybe, it was because she had become so accustomed to seeing his scowl; it was a welcomed surprise to remember he could smile.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded - a signature move when she was a child and hated to speak even just one word. But for some odd reason, she did feel okay. At least okay enough to breathe normally.

Wiping her eyes, she asked, "What time is it?"

"Almost four in the morning."

"Oh." Rory looked down at her hands. "And you were still here?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You said you hated sleeping here."

Harry placed two fingers under her chin. "No, Bambi. I said your mattress is shit, and I wanted to buy you a new one. But you wouldn't let me."

"It's fine."

"It's shit."

She sniffled. "You already bought me a table - you don't need to get me anything else."

I don't need another reminder of you when this all ends - especially if it's something I sleep on every night.

"Fine. Then we need to sleep at mine more often - I can't sleep on this thing forever, Bambi." Harry tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "What did you say it was like? Sleeping on a cloud?"

Rory only responded with a nod, her mind too consumed to put a verbal reply together. She noticed him doing that a lot recently, talking about their relationship in the context of the future. Did he honestly expect them to last more than a few weeks? Is that what he wanted? What if he got bored of her? Did he mean it? Or was he just saying that to make her happy? Why would he want to waste his time with someone like her?

"Rory?"

She became so consumed in her thoughts that Rory didn't realize she had started crying again.

"I'm sorry."

Harry swiped his thumb across her cheek, brushing away a tear. "For what?"

Unable to eloquently articulate having a nightmare about the night of the car crash, screaming herself awake, and crying herself into a panic attack, only to stop by hearing her dead Dad's voice, she responded with a simple, "You know what."

"You don't have to apologize. Do you want to talk about it?"

Trust him.

"I don't know how," she confessed. "I normally avoid talking about him because it's too painful... so I've never done it before."

"Who?"

"My dad."

"Tell me about him."

"What?"

"Tell me about him," Harry repeated. "What's his name?"

"Aidan."

"What was Aidan like?"

This was never how it started in the past. Everyone else just wanted to know how he died - no one ever cared to ask anything about him before.

Trust him.

"He was amazing. The best Dad I could have ever asked for."

"Yeah? What was life like growing up with Aidan?"

"Shitty," she admitted with a laugh, "But he always did anything and everything to make sure I never knew how bad it was. He could have given up like my birth mom or pawned me off to my grandmother... but he stepped up. Not just because he had to, but because he wanted to. And everyone could see that - how much he loved being a parent." Reaching for Pebbles, she put the stuffed cow in her lap and continued, "When I started getting older, everyone worried what would happen when I started asking questions about my birth mom. I heard him talking to my Uncle some nights about how he wouldn't know how to handle it because he could never imagine doing what she did. But I never asked. I didn't need to because he filled the role of two parents perfectly without even trying. That's just who he was."

"Sounds like a great guy."

She realized it was easy to talk about him when it focused on who he was as a person - far more than she ever imagined. It almost had her wishing people would ask about him more.

"He was. He was my best friend - my only friend. As sad as it sounds, I truly mean that."

"You didn't have any other friends?"

Rory shook her head. "I know it's hard for you to believe, but I am really smart. And all the adults around me finally realized how smart I was when I turned ten. But the school for kids like me was expensive, so they kept pushing me up grade levels. So, that meant I was with kids far older than me who found it more entertaining to pick on me than being my friend."

"Kids are cruel."

She smiled, nodding in agreement. "On the bright side, I started learning how to read people and pick apart their insecurities. I was pretty quiet back then, so I never used my little secret power on anyone, but I perfected it quite well."

Sensing she was beginning to tense up, Harry placed his hand on hers and asked, "What did he do for a living?"

"He worked at the auto shop my grandfather owned."

"Big car guy?"

Her eyes fell to her lap. She hated this part, having to talk about what he loved most (after her, of course) just to remember how he died. It always surprised other people that she was never nervous about getting in a car or afraid of them in general after learning what happened. But she knew exactly why that fear never materialized. It was because she was okay with dying. Getting in a car and risking her life just meant she was one step closer to reuniting with him again - then she would be able to hear his voice and see him too.

After a minute of silence, Harry asked, "Rory? Are you okay? We can stop if-"

"He loved cars and his job," she whispered. "And that's what killed him."

"Rory-"

"He died a few days before my birthday," she cut him off, lifting her head to meet his glance. "I used to be terrified whenever we weren't together that I would get a call saying he was dead, so I would wait by the window and watch until he got home. But he had to go do a roadside pick-up one night, and I asked if I could go with him because I thought if we were together, I couldn't get that call." She paused to wipe away the tears that ran down her cheeks. "Some idiot blew a red light and crashed right into him. I would have died too, but he saved my life. And the worst part of it all is that he's dead because of me."

"Don't say that, Rory."

"Why not? It's true. I asked him if I could come. I wasted time getting changed when he could have left. He would have missed getting hit if it wasn't for me!" Digging her nails into the palm of her hands, the outpour of tears burst through. "Sometimes, I wish he would have just let me die that night so I wouldn't have to know what it was like to live without him. Every single person I have ever loved has been taken away from me, and I-"

Her words were silenced as the sound of her cries took over. Harry wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body into his chest. She didn't care that she was getting his shirt wet with tears.

"I don't have anyone left," she admitted loudly, sobbing against his chest. "Everyone has been taken away from me. It's not fucking fair!"

"That's not true." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You have me."

Rory pulled her head back, shocked by the words she heard him say. Her eyes carefully scanned over every inch of his face, trying to detect whether he was telling a lie. "Don't say that," she whispered.

"Why not?"

"I can't hear shit like that. I know you're only saying it because you think it will make me feel better... but I can't hear that if it's not true."

"Rory-"

"You can't say shit like that just to make me feel better," she whispered.

"Rory-"

"I don't need to hear it if it's not true, okay?"

"Rory!"

"What?"

"You have me."

Trust him.

Getting lost in his eyes, she fell silent. She didn't know why, but she believed him and whispered, "I have you."

She had him.

Rory had someone.

Once she allowed herself to calm down from the tears and fall asleep in his arms, Rory felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Finally, she had someone. There was no one else in her life that gave her this feeling - one of warmth and protection. And she knew it had to be real because her Dad's voice said to trust him.

Aidan had never steered her wrong before.

When the sun peaked through the blinds, Rory wasn't surprised to see him missing from the other side of the bed. He wasn't always there when she woke up - just because she had him now didn't mean everything would change. At first, she found herself feeling slightly disappointed he wasn't there. But when she caught sight of her puffy, bloodshot eyes and puffy skin, she was relieved.

If last night hadn't scared him off, seeing how she looked this morning would have.

Rory reached into the shower and turned the tap. As she waited for the water to warm up, she chewed her bottom lip, thinking about the events of a few hours ago. She couldn't remember crying like that before - let alone the last time she allowed herself to cry over it.

The first night she spent in foster care was on her birthday, and she cried herself to sleep. However, she quickly learned never to do it again. Her pain and suffering made her an immediate target - and when the person who came to comfort her tried to take advantage of her vulnerability, she realized she couldn't cry anymore.

Try and make friends, they would all encourage her. But they all had ulterior motives.

Trust no one and survive. That's how she lived her life.

Benny and Mia were the first two people she had welcomed into her life since her world fell apart. And even with them, she couldn't help but keep a guard up. It wasn't their fault - Rory was just too messed up in the head to trust someone completely. Even trusting someone a minuscule amount was an amazing feat for her.

It wasn't until hours ago that she felt her walls finally come down for the first time.

And now he was gone.

Stepping into the shower, she tried to wash away the memories of hours ago. Forgetting what had happened would be hard for her to do. She knew she would figure out how to - she always did.

It wasn't like Harry would stick around.

He couldn't even wait for her to wake up before disappearing.

She couldn't blame him for wanting to leave. And yet, it didn't make the pain she felt over him doing such a thing any easier.

Being officially together didn't change anything about their dynamic - they didn't refer to each other as boyfriend and girlfriend, and none of their friends knew. Rory preferred it that way; she enjoyed knowing he was hers, even in secret. That's all she needed to feel safe and more at ease in their relationship. She no longer had to tip toe around her feelings; she confessed them all in that fight the other night.

Turning off the water, she grabbed a towel and searched her room for a clean pair of clothes. Was it too early for a drink? Yes. But that's just what she wanted to numb everything. Maybe a line. She didn't have work later - it's not like she had anywhere to be. It wouldn't stop her even if she did have work.

Itching for a cigarette, Rory headed for the living room to grab her purse. At least she could say she didn't go straight for a bottle first thing in the morning.

The sound of humming from the kitchen halted her steps.

Rory followed the noise, surprised to see the tall man with long hair standing by the stove. He turned his head, sending one of those charming smiles in her direction. And just like clockwork, the warm, unknown feeling spread through her chest.

"Morning, Bambi. What do you want on your pancakes?"

"W-what?"

"I've got an entire spread going for us, baby." Harry motioned to the bowls on the counter using the spatula. "We've got strawberries, bananas, blueberries, and some chocolate chips."

Her eyes found their way to the bowls of chopped-up fruit and chocolate. "Where did all of this come from?"

"Well, you didn't have shit in your cupboards, so I went to the store."

"You did?"

Harry turned his attention back to the frying pan and flipped the pancake onto the other side. "Look at that perfect golden colour," he said, proud of his work.

Rory rummaged through the cupboards and opened the fridge, seeing everything full for the first time in weeks. Even when she remembered to do the shopping, she never bought so many things - or so many healthy things.

Looking at the three different kinds of milk - regular, oat, and almond - she looked over her shoulder and asked, "You got all of this for me?"

"You can't survive on vodka and potato chips, Bambi."

Standing in shock, Rory couldn't help but stare at him in amazement.

The brooding man that wore a permanent scowl threatened her life time and time again, and appeared to take pleasure out of killing... That man was standing in her kitchen, filling her cabinets with food after staying up all night taking care of her while she cried. That man was showing her what it would be like to be his, to be someone to trust and one day understand what that warm feeling meant.

Suddenly, it dawned on her.

"You stayed."

"Why wouldn't I?"

Walking towards him, she said, "One way or another, everyone always leaves."

"Not me. You know that now, right?"

"I do," she uttered without realizing it.

That's how she knew it was real - she didn't have to think about her answer. It fell perfectly from her lips, just like how the two fell into each other's lives. It was perfect.

Harry and Rory were perfect for one another.

Or so, she tricked herself into believing.

Poor Bambi. How easy it was for the doe-eyed fool to forget the golden rule. 

Never trust the Devil.

THE CINEMA CHAPTERS

POPSICLE // BREAK-IN // WINDOW // JOLENE // PHOTOS // PEANUT