scene forty-five - leak - year eight

“For the last time, Jey, I don’t know how to do plumbing and shit. Your parents will take care of this shit anyway, so why are you so bothered?”

They’d all gathered at the corner, just like usual, but their anxious situation was showing through their face—their voice—even their eyes. Their physical features became a picture of nerves, as they attempted, again and again, to reason with T and convince him that he was some sort of master repairman, just so that he’d come back to their house and maybe find a bucket to shove under the slowly increasing downpour of water from the kitchen ceiling. They didn’t want a quick fix—they didn’t even want an actual solution to the issue—they just didn’t want to face it alone.

“Didn’t you help your dad fix a car, that one time?” She asked, quietly and slowly: deliberately. He shook his head, smiling down at the girl he’d chosen to stay by his side for the duration of his high school life, and perhaps longer.