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And the only reason I didn’t go insane and lose my head, killing everyone in sight?
Is because of my best friends.
Friendship was the foundation of my sanity.
Until she kissed me.
And then?
She became more important than anyone else.”
Florian
Florian, six years old
“This is so stupid,” Remi complains, huffing and puffing as he drags the shovel with him. We trail him, holding our own tools. “We’re going to get in trouble,” he warns us, and I roll my eyes.
“You always say that, and we never do. You know why?” I adjust my backpack better and wrap my arm around his shoulders, momentarily stilling his movements. “Because we are sneaky and born lucky.”
He shrugs me off and glares at me, wiping away the sweat dripping from his forehead as owls hoot in the distance and crickets chirp in the bushes. The moonlight shines so brightly that it serves as a huge lamp showcasing the beauty of our family garden around us, and the clear sky lit by thousands of stars makes my finger itch to try to recreate the color on the paper.
Yellow diamonds. What if I drew a yellow diamond necklace reminding me of one of the constellations?
Probably difficult, but I want to do it.
“You’re born lucky.” He shifts uncomfortably. “I’m not.”
Annoyance zips through me as his words sour our moods. Remi always finds a way to suck up all the fun from our activities if they go against the rules.
I got out of the hospital shortly after, and Santiago came to visit me right away, believing my story about falling from a tree, and pretending to be just a normal boy was easy. He hugged me a lot and cried over Frederick’s death.
We started hanging out again and invited Octavius more frequently. He relaxed in our company enough to play with us.
Around the same time, Uncle Lucian hired a new gardener who brought a family with him, and Remi joined our group. We were excited to finally have a fourth member.
I felt bad about Octavius not having a pair, and they seemed to hit it off, always hanging out together during our outings and supporting all our ideas.
Remi had some issues at first accepting us and believing our friendship would stick, but Uncle Lucian and Aunt Esme enrolled him in the same school, paid for all his tutors, and made sure he attended all the activities right along with us.
In short, we all became inseparable, and Remi’s difficult father, who loved to drink and hit him, stopped after Uncle Lucian had a long talk with him. I’m not sure how much time they spent talking, though, since he had several new bruises on his face afterward.
Still Remi has this moment of insecurities where he doubts our friendship or still expects us to do something and then blame him if we are caught.
Impossible.
We all take responsibility for our actions no matter who did it. Like the musketeers.
“You must be lucky, amigo. Because you have friends like us.” Santiago ruffles his hair, and Remi shakes his head while he laughs. “We need to still work on your Spanish.” He sighs heavily. “Yesterday, I asked him to bring me some green tea and put a bag on my shoulder. He was all confused, asking me where he was supposed to find a man to put a bag on him.”
“It’s not my fault the words are so similar. Hombro and hombre.”
“Not my problem. Learn it. You need to be in our class.”
“Says who?”
“Says me. How are we going to conquer the world if you have a D in languages? So less complaining and more studying.”
“I study every day!”
