Out of Character (True Colors 2)

Remember you said that, he replied. And I smiled. God only knew why, but I smiled, maybe for the first time since losing Bruno’s cards. This was going to be so bad. Dorky costume. Public audience. But it was Jasper, and we were talking for the first time in almost eight years, and I was enjoying that far more than was smart. I needed to be careful, make sure that I didn’t lose anything else that I couldn’t afford to part with.

Chapter Five

Jasper

“It’s got to be here somewhere.” I pulled my coat tighter around myself as I dug through boxes. My parents’ detached garage was freezing, but I had no choice but to keep looking. Wednesday was only two days away, and thanks to a heavy class schedule, this Monday night visit was my only chance to grab the garb before then.

“What exactly is it you’re looking for?” My mom poked her head in the door. She’d put on a colorful knit hat and scarf for the trek to the garage, and I felt bad for making her come outside.

“A box of stuff Ronnie left before he and everyone else headed to London at winter break.”

“We’re holding stuff for Ronnie?” She gestured at the packed space that held remnants of five childhoods, various seasonal hobbies, holiday decor, and the usual assortment of bikes and yard-work tools.

“And Jaida,” I admitted. Jaida and Ronnie had both needed to stash stuff before the big London trip, and I’d figured three more boxes wouldn’t make that much difference. “But not much. Just cosplay stuff. And I need it for Wednesday.”

“Oh? Did you finally find your prince?” Smiling, she waggled her eyebrows at me.

“Sort of.” I wasn’t quite ready to tell her about Milo. She was still friendly with Milo’s mom, and I didn’t need to take a ride on the Awkward Town express right then. Instead of meeting her eyes, I busied myself with moving a few boxes of Christmas decorations. At the bottom of the stack was a white box with Ronnie’s blocky writing on it. “Found it!”

“Good for you!” She gave me a high five as I tucked the box in to my side and made my way back to the door.

“Yeah. I knew I would. Sorry if I made the mess worse.”

“It’s okay. Dinner is almost ready. You’re staying, right?” Pulling her hat down over her ears, she led the way back to the house.

“What is it?” I was staying regardless because her cooking always beat dorm food or needing to buy dinner, but I didn’t want to appear too desperate or I’d be headed back to my dorm loaded down with a week’s worth of leftovers and snacks.

“Chicken enchiladas and bean soup.”

“Yeah, I could eat that.” I paused to stamp off my shoes in the mudroom. I stashed the box next to my shoes and backpack. If I was staying, I knew the rules, and I headed to the sink before she could remind me to wash up. April would be down soon, and she’d want a hug, so I scrubbed extra well under my nails and up my wrists, the process automatic from years of precautions.

“Jasper!” Right on schedule, April trooped down the stairs. Her hair, same red as mine, was pulled up into a high ponytail, little wisps escaping to make her look far younger than fifteen. The baby of the family, she was also small for her age with delicate features and slim limbs, but she was surprisingly strong as she clung to me in a tight hug.

“Wash,” Mom ordered.

“I’ll set the table.” Unlike most of my siblings, I never minded doing chores for my mom. I liked being useful, liked knowing that no matter how stressed and worried she got, there was something I could do for her.

The dishes were still hot from the sterilizing cycle in the dishwasher, and they felt good against my chilled hands. Already changed out of his uniform, Dad came in from the front of the house as I finished, and he went right to the sink too. We were all super well-trained. Anything to keep April safe.

“You’re coming Wednesday, right?” I asked April as I took a seat opposite her. “Hospital administrators might stop by. We need our elf.”

“I’m coming. Mom made me a new mask that matches the costume since it’s still flu season, but it’s hardly canon for the trickster elf to need a mask and gloves.”

“You make your own canon. And you’re one of our best players. The kids all love playing you.”

“I am good.” She gave me a toothy smile as Mom set the food on the table. I way preferred the times when April could tag along, one of our group, to when she was one of the patients we visited. She’d had another lengthy hospitalization that past summer, and like Mom, I worried constantly about rogue germs. But we also couldn’t keep someone with her kind of energy home indefinitely. She’d most likely be dealing with the genetic blood disorder that affected her immune system the rest of her life, and it was always a balancing act between keeping her safe and letting her have the same freedoms as the rest of us.