In some ways, online school was way worse than going to public school. For Cas, it meant that he would try to start school, but would always wind up getting sidetracked on something and end up not starting school until three p.m.
It had been about a week since he'd met Darcy, and he had actually thought about her quite a lot. Not in any romantic sense, but in the sense that she walked right by his window every morning on the way to the bus stop just outside of the gated community. He'd been to see his psychologist the day before, and he had suggested that Cas write down his feelings, or talk about them with someone else, but he'd dismissed it like he usually did, because what did a perfectly mentally stable psychologist know about being off, even just by a little. Something about Darcy that calmed Cas was that she always wore the same style of outfits. It was always something vintage styled. That day, it was a pair of highwaisted shorts and an oversized red flannel. Her hair was down, as per usual.
That same day, Cas finished his work early. It was a Friday, and doing schoolwork was the last thing he wanted to do. He was sitting on his bed listening to the cast recording for '21 Chump Street' when his mom came into his room with his meds and water, followed by Darcy, who was wearing a smile to rival the Cheshire Cat's. Cas groaned internally. His mom saw his eyes, and silently asked Darcy to step into the living room.
Cas's mom made her way towards him and handed him his pills and water. Cas took them and gave his mom a cheesy half-smile.
"Pills and potions" he said before popping his meds into my mouth and downing them with water. When he was done, his mom sat down gingerly on the side of his bed. She smoothed out the blankets around it and sighed.
"Darcy is going to talk to you," his mom explained quietly. "And you are going to talk to her whether you like it or not."
"But mom-" Cas started.
"Caspar, quit whining. Your psychologist said this would be good for you, and you're going to listen to his advice"she demanded. Cas nodded, and his mom stood before bending to kiss his forehead and letting Darcy back into his room.
She gave him an awkward wave and then looked around his room, trying to find somewhere to sit.
"You know, you can just sit on my bed" Cas sighed. Darcy nodded and took a seat, carefully, on the very edge of his bed. He took his earbuds out and paused his music, tossing his phone onto the end of his bed.
"Your mom said we were supposed to talk..." Darcy trailed off. Cas nodded.
"I'm not good at talking to people" Cas mumbled, more so to himself, but Darcy heard him.
"You can start by telling me why you think you're so awful at communication" Darcy suggested. Cas laughed, but nodded his head begrudgingly.
"I guess," he sighed. "I guess... I mean, I can tell you what I have, or I can start from the beginning" Cas told her. Darcy seemed twenty times more interested. Probably because she heard that he had a backstory.
"You do whatever you want" she said. Cas thought this was crazy. It had taken him over a year to even say more than five words to his psychologist, and now he was supposed to tell this girl his entire life story and he hadn't even known her for over twenty-four hours.
"How old are you?" Cas asked. Darcy took a moment to process that he wasn't telling her about his life, at least not yet. In the back of his mind, Cas knew he'd get in deep with his mom if he didn't talk to Darcy. She was determined to make him better.
"I'm fifteen," Darcy told him. Cas nodded. She seemed older than fifteen. At least sixteen, like him. Maybe older. "Your mom said you were sixteen, right?"
Cas nodded. "Yeah. I'm sixteen." Cas wondered how long his mom had let him sleep while she'd entertained. His mom was always making sure he got enough rest, so she'd probably entertained for hours before waking him.
"So you're fifteen, and you agreed to be my second hand counselor for free, then?" Cas asked. Darcy seemed stunned by his question. It wasn't a look that Cas put on the faces of many people, but he felt a small pinch of satisfaction seeing it on Darcy.
"I've got nothing else to do on Fridays" she told him, shrugging. Cas laughed.
"Well, I guess I'll be sorry if you don't get what you were expecting from me" he sighed. It was easy to tell her that now, at least. That way, when he really was sorry she had counseled a lost cause, he wouldn't have to express it.
"I'll get something out of you," she insisted. "Rome wasn't built in a day.
Cas mulled this over. It was true, but overused. "But it sure as hell was destroyed in one."
"So, Cas, why don't you keep talking and we'll see how long it takes to build Rome" she suggested. Cas nodded, crossing his legs. He didn't want to tell Darcy about him. Not about his disorders, not about his past. He didn't really want to talk to her at all.
"I like pasta, I guess" Cas shrugged. He didn't know how to talk to anyone about himself. He didn't even tell his mom what was happening with him, or how he felt. He couldn't tell anyone how he really felt. He had to use mundane terms that didn't express anything.
"Pasta? That's vague. What kind of pasta?" Darcy asked. Cas didn't know what kind of pasta he liked. He didn't even eat pasta that much. That was probably why he liked it.
"Cheesy spaghetti" he said, surprising himself. His dad made cheesy spaghetti before his death, but Cas hadn't had it since. If he had to pick a pasta, cheesy spaghetti certainly wouldn't be his favorite.
"Meatballs, or nah?" Darcy queried. Cas furrowed his eyebrows.
"What kind of question is that?" he asked. Darcy shrugged.
"Do you, or do you not, have meatballs with your cheesy spaghetti?" she questioned again, slower. Cas sighed.
"No" Cas said. Darcy laughed a little.
"Is that a 'no, I don't eat meatballs with my cheesy spaghetti'?" she asked. Cas nodded.
"I assure you, my spaghetti is one-hundred percent meatball free" he sighed. Darcy chewed on her lip and nodded.
"That's good. Maybe we'll get along a little better," she thought out loud. Cas didn't know why they could possibly bond over the fact that his dad never put meatballs on the spaghetti he made. "I'm a vegetarian."
"That's rough" Cas blurted. He thought Darcy might be angry; when he'd told some kid his age a few years ago that being a vegan was 'rough', he'd gotten punched in the gut.
But, Darcy wasn't angry. Instead, she got this giant stupid grin on her face. "Oh, you have no idea! My moms are hardcore vegans, right? And I'm not about to give up dairy. I mean, ice cream! And chocolate!" she exclaimed, before realizing that she was yelling about loving dairy in front of Cas, who she'd only met once before.
Darcy had two moms. Cas wanted to know if she was adopted or not. She certainly didn't look like her parents at all. Where her moms were both like a stick, she was more curvy. She offset them in different ways. Her skin was like ebony, and her hair was nice and curly, unlike her parents. She wore the same sparkly black liquid eyeliner every day, but up close it reminded Cas of midnight. The way the stars shimmered. He wondered again if she had been adopted.
