“Jas is?” they prompted as he bent over and snatched the letter off the floor.
“Uh, right. Jas is voice-off all the time, but I’ll translate,” he said as he half-heartedly smoothed the wrinkles in the envelope before he added the letter to his backpack.
He dumped the rest of the spam mail into the garbage before he zipped his bag closed and slipped it back over one shoulder. When he faced Cya once more, his smile looked a little forced, the usual glow in his eyes dimmer than it had been a minute ago.
They stared at each other for a moment, and Dex shifted his weight awkwardly. Since Cya was well-versed in ignoring uncomfortable situations, they gestured to the lift and said, “Shall we?”
“Oh, the lift’s been broken for months. We gotta take the stairs.”
He headed to the door to the stairwell, and they glumly trailed after him. They could navigate stairs, of course, but they were slow. Ramps were easier on their tail muscles, hence why so many Sypents fitted their homes with numerous ramps instead of staircases.
Since Cya had been raised with poise and grace, they didn’t complain as they followed him into the stairwell. “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal for your landlord not to fix the lift,” they said as they started up after him. “You should complain.”
Dex snorted. “The building’s owned by a huge rental corporation from Greed. It’s illegal for them to do a lot of things, but that’s never stopped them before. Plus, the super that takes care of things for them is lazy AF.”
“Then you should sue.”
“With what lawyer and what money?”
Like he had earlier in the cafe, he didn’t speak with malice or accusation. He was simply stating facts, acknowledging the reality he existed within. It still made them feel guilty.
“It’s from my dad, by the way,” Dex said when they reached the second floor landing, and Cya didn’t have to ask what he meant. “He sends us birthday cards sometimes, but they’re always late. Jas turned thirteen two months ago.”
Hand on the railing, they waited as he scuffed the floor, hands tucked into the pockets of his swishy shorts.
“And it’s like, why does he even bother, you know? If he genuinely cared, he’d send cards on our actual birthdays, wouldn’t he?” He looked at them like they had answers, but for the life of them, they couldn’t think of a single thing to say. “I mean, it’s not like I need a birthday card from him. I think I’d rather he not try at all, if I’m being honest. Easier for all of us.”
Words eluded them, so Cya remained silent, nails digging into the wooden railing until their fingers ached. His unashamed vulnerability made them itch until they wanted to peel off their skin entirely. Why was he talking about this now? With them? They barely knew each other.
“He’d still remember when our birthdays are, right?”
Again, he stared at them like they knew, and they croaked out an awkward, “I don’t know, Dex.”
“We’re better off without him. He was never a very good dad.” Hiking his bags higher, he started ascending the staircase to the next floor. “I just wish he’d leave us alone, you know?He’sthe one who left, so why can’t he just stay gone?”
Cya didn’t think he was asking them this time, but they found themself saying, “Sometimes, parents are selfish. Sometimes, they’re not who they’resupposed to be. They don’t always know it, but sometimes, they do, and they don’t know how to handle that, so they make it everyone else’s problem.”
Dex slowed to a stop mid-step, ears lowering as he stared at them. They swallowed thickly, fingers drumming against the railing.
“Or maybe,” they continued when he didn’t speak, “your father’s an asshole who only cares about himself, and he never loses a wink of sleep over the pain he causes you or your sister or your mother. Because then, at least, you’ll remember him, because hurt and bad memories are better than being forgotten entirely.”
A long silence stretched, and Cya endured it, chest tight, hands clutching the railing until their fingers shrieked. And Dex, he stared right at them, gaze boring into theirs.
Unable to meet his eyes, they looked away. To the sign next to the door with a large number three on it. To the stained concrete in the corner. To the flickering fluorescent lightbulb overhead. Then back to Dex, and deities below, why was he still staring at them?
“Are your parents selfish?” he asked, and though the question made Cya want to rip out their hair, at least the crushing silence was broken.
They swallowed once. Twice. Then they wobbled their head in something akin to a nod.
Dex’s hand twitched, like he wanted to reach out and touch them, but he didn’t. He fisted his hand at his side instead.
He said, “Sorry your parents suck.”
They said, “I’m sorry your father left.”
Inhaling deeply, he nodded, then exhaled in rush. “Eh, good ribbons. He sucked too.”
They had to bite their bottom lip to stave off a smile as they cleared their throat. “Riddance. It’s good riddance.”
