Were You Expecting Flowers? ✔️

7

I'm selfish and distracted
But I'm here, I'm here and I'm listening
And it's just you and me and these four walls
And we are only human after all
_____________________

WELL, THERE goes all my plans of being alone for a while.

I stood there for a few seconds, studying his figure by the museum entrance, then started approaching.

"Carlos?" I said a little louder than usual.

He snapped up, his puffy red eyes nervously darting until he spotted me.

"Oh hi." He gasped in relief, placing his hands down on both sides, "What're you doing here?"

"I was gonna ask you the same thing." I replied, standing in front of him, "I'm supposed to go check out the museum for Mal's precious wand." I felt no need to hide my irritation in front of Carlos.

He laughed a little, then rubbed his face and sighed heavily. We stayed silent for a minute. I wasn't sure what to do, but leaving him seemed a little too cruel and definitely too awkward. The breeze picked up and the cold was settling in.

"What happened earlier?" I asked.

"Right." He ran his fingers through his hair, his tone indicating he was hoping I didn't ask, "It's nothing. I'm really sorry-"

"Stop saying that." I cut in, "Cause like, you have nothing to be sorry for. Like I actually have no idea what you're sorry for."

He blinked at me.

"Yeah I know. I'm not good at this kind of stuff." I added, shrugging, "I guess I'm supposed to be less talkative and more comforting but you can't blame me. I barely talk to anyone at home so I don't know how pep talks are supposed to work."

I didn't expect him to laugh again.

"What?"

"You're just so brutally honest with yourself it's funny." He said, "And don't worry. I think you're doing a pretty good job."

I cocked my head to the side. "Really?" I said and he nodded in response, "Well I guess you owe me an explanation then."

"It's stupid." Carlos shook his head.

I awkwardly sat down a few foot away from him, giving him a look that said it's stupid and?

He bit his lip, before continuing. "It's stupid, but I'm terrified of loud noises. And when you and Mal and Jay were screaming at each other..." His breath hitched and suddenly he turned away from me.

I felt the remorse creeping up my spine and eating me up.

"Why are you so scared?" I asked.

He kept his face turned away from me as he spoke. "I dunno. I- Any loud noises scare me... cause it reminds me of my mom."

"Carlos, that doesn't make sense. Why are you scared of your mom?" I said, edging closer.

"Cause she screams." He was breaking down slowly, I could tell. He was crying, but trying to make it sound like he wasn't. "Cause she screams and she bangs doors shut and she throws glass and it shatters and she kicks me and hits me when I do something wrong like when I forgot to do her laundry or when I forgot to clean her furs. I-" He gasped for breath after that long rant that came tumbling out of his mouth.

"Sh-she hits you?" I said, shocked.

"Yeah." His voice was ragged, "And I know I'm supposed to stand up for myself and everything but she keeps threatening me with dogs and I am petrified of dogs." I couldn't see his face. "It's stupid, I know. But yeah any loud noises- it's just- just-"

"Hey." I said, swallowing down the strange emotions that were suddenly building up, "It's okay. Just breathe. I get it now. You can stop talking."

As if he was waiting for permission, he took a deep long breath, then slowly turned back towards me. His tears glimmered under the lights as he wiped them away.

"Listen, I-" I hesitated, "Sorry, I am so bad at this. But I'm sorry, you know, for all that. Especially earlier. I didn't know..."

The words tasted odd in my mouth. I don't think I've ever apologized for anything in my life. I've never regretted anything. But this boy in front of me, looking so utterly broken, made me feel this whirlwind of emotions I didn't understand. And I wanted to understand. I wanted to understand so badly. And I mentally kicked myself for not being better at making him feel better.

"It's okay." He said quietly, "You didn't know."

"Well I know now." I paused, then continued, "And I thought having parents was supposed to be great."

Carlos smiled a little. "Nah. Not always." He said, "I mean, yeah, I guess. It would be selfish to say that I'm not grateful that my mom is alive." He bit his lip. "But it's not fun living around her... or, in her dressing room."

"Her dressing room?"

"Yeah." He scratched the back of his neck, fidgety, "She makes me sleep on the floor of her dressing room with bear traps around. And when they snap shut-" He flinched, eyes closed, as if remembering a narrow escape from losing a limp.

Now I understand. The smallest of noises trigger him, or more specifically, a horrible horrible memory.

"And that's also why I find you very fascinating." He told me, "You're the complete opposite of what I see myself as. You talk back to the adults. You fend for yourself. And you've been doing it your whole life as if it's nothing. You rely on nobody but yourself. I mean, to me, that's crazy!"

I sat in stunned silence. Is this a compliment?

"Is it okay if I tell you something?" He asked.

I nodded.

"I- I'm not evil." He hung his head down, shamed, "I know I'm not, deep down. Cause the only reason why I tell people I'm evil, is because I'm scared of what my mom would think of me. Or even worse, what the whole of the Isle would think of me. Evie knows this. She gave me my first pillow. I consider her a very good friend, even though I can tell she doesn't quite understand me. She tries to be nice sometimes, because she knows it makes me feel better, and she's a lot better than most people I grew up with, but she's still struggling."

He stared straight ahead, then down at his clenched fists. "I want to be evil like you. Like Mal and Evie and Jay. But how am I supposed to be evil when all I do is cry and cower in fear?"

Again I was at loss for words.

He turned towards me again and saw the expression on my face. "Sorry. I didn't mean to overwhelm you."

I stared at him, and felt a sharp pang of guilt but also heartache and confusion. Why did he trust me enough to tell me all this? Did I understand? Would I ever be able to understand something so foreign to me?

I stood up. He seemed surprised.

"First rule. I don't ever want to hear you saying you're sorry ever again." I said.

His jaw dropped slightly, as if saying I can do that?

"You wanna be evil?" I said, crossing my arms, "Stop saying you're sorry for something you're not supposed to be sorry for."

I silently pray that I was handling this right, and hoping the look on my face doesn't give away how unsure I was of this. Am I doing the right thing? He wants to be evil, right? Am I helping him? Am I not supposed to help him, to show I'm truly evil?

"Now get up, freckles. We have a museum to explore."