backstreetsims

simmingwiththetide:

[X]

For the majority of last week, Stevie had triumphantly utilised her stubbornness to its capacity; ignoring both Sawyer and Dean had become an art form of hers now. She almost thought about adding it to her college application under the title ‘Special Skills.’ Her usual means of escaping Dean was accomplished by a brash march towards the ladies room at school, as well as meticulously swapping her shifts around with other employees at Alma’s coffee shop, so she could avoid working with him. As for her sister, the slam of her bedroom door and the blasting of heavy metal music (a genre that Sawyer greatly detested) seemed effective enough.

That was until last night.

Just as Stevie was about to take a bite out of the home-made spicy bean burgers Jackson had prepared, Sawyer traipsed confidently through the kitchen towards the dining area, where the rest of the family were sitting. Linked in arms with Sawyer was Dean, who had a nervous smile plastered across his face. He had ditched his navy overalls and staple midnight black leather jacket for an oil-free, crisp white shirt, which was tucked perfectly into a pair of smart black trousers. He politely introduced himself to both Jackson and Jessica as Sawyer’s boyfriend. Both Elliot and Harper regarded the sequence of events to follow with an alarming pensive stare compared to both their father and grandmother who were aloof to the drama that involved the older pair of quadruplets. They were fully expecting Sawyer and Stevie to erupt into a volcanic argument, yet fortunately for everyone seated at the table Stevie kept the eye rolling and begrudged scoffs to a minimum, and as for the snarky comments they stayed inside her head.

During the course of the meal, Jackson and Dean bonded over their mutual love of classic motors and rock bands; they also chatted amicably about Dean’s uncle Sal who Jackson had known fairly well from the MOT services he had provided over the years on his beloved 1971 charcoal grey Plymouth Hemi ‘Cuda. Whereas Jessica, showered the couple in compliments, gushing over how well-suited and dashing they looked together – likening them both to a Pink Lady and T-Bird from Grease which left them chuckling with crimson cheeks.

The evening had reached a new level of saccharine for Stevie’s tastes by dessert, and she skulked off towards her bedroom without a word. She rolled her shoulders back to rid herself of the envy and bitterness that had plagued her from the evening while she ascended the stairs towards her bedroom. Once entering she shut the door behind her and leant against it, scouring her room for her headphones which she aimed to use to drown out the laughter and chit chat from the floor below. She sighed in resignation, after spending the last twenty minutes unsuccessfully ransacking her drawers in the off chance they may have been discarded and hid away. Peeling her clothes off and dumping them in her growing pile of dirty laundry, she changed into her pyjamas and burrowed herself under her duvet in the hopes of drowning out the happy couple she could hear from the floor below.

This morning, she still found herself in a daze of downcast that not even leftover carrot cake from the night before could fix. Her stomach gurgled with satisfaction as she stuffed her face full with two slices of cake. After showering, Stevie opted to re-read Wuthering Heights in the greenhouse, admiring the homegrown tomatoes that were beginning to fashion a shade of ripe ruby red. She returned to the house at lunchtime, bumping into her youngest sibling in the kitchen as she rummaged through the cupboards in the search for macaroni. Stevie politely declined Harper’s offer of accompanying her, Elliot, Fauna and Scarlet to the movies. She instead made herself the gooiest macaroni & cheese humanly possible and piled a plentiful portion into her bowl to enjoy.

After finishing her lunch, and washing the dishes Stevie skipped towards her bedroom, taking two steps at a time in the hopes of burning a few of the calories she had hungrily consumed momentarily ago. She painted well into the afternoon until the fumes from the turpentine left her feeling light-headed. Cracking a window ajar, Stevie contemplated calling Isaac, yet decided against it as she didn’t want to bother him while he was visiting his father for the week. Shoving her mobile phone into her pocket, she scanned her bedroom until her eyes fell onto her scattered pile of records.

Stevie sighed contently as she rummaged through her growing record collection. Many of the records she owned now, had been hand-picked from her mother’s vast archive. The rest were reluctantly donated to charity, so that room could be made in the garage for Sawyer’s periwinkle blue Volkswagen Beetle. Blowing lightly, dust rolled from Stevie’s chosen record, resembling that of shimmering fragments of gold dust whenever the dancing flecks passed through the rays of fast setting sunlight. Placing her favoured album on the player, Stevie tucked a loose strand of her chestnut coloured hair behind her ear, then delicately placed the needle onto the vinyl. Within moments the soft, angel-like music of Mazzy Star lilted around the room; she toggled with the dials until the volume tuned out the giggles that were outpouring from under the crack of Harper’s bedroom doorway opposite.

Once standing, Stevie rubbed at her knees, and then reached for her favourite camera to shoot with. She huffed with disappointment with the realisation that there was no film inside. She was supposed to have purchased more last week but lately she had become seemingly distracted with schoolwork, as well as the latest turn of events that had encased the household under an invisible blanket of strain. Cursing to herself for missing the 50% sale on art and photography supplies, she collapsed onto her bed, staring aimlessly out of her window in the hopes of being distracted by the Gulls that were circling the moss-green pine treetops; yet instead, she found herself entranced by the edges of the clouds that had begun to glow in rich, molten, amber tones.

Stevie begun to treat her camera as if it were a telescope, gazing through the viewfinder from left to right. She admired every individual needle that littered the pine trees. She also cooed at the sight of a mother Blue Jay caring for its’ nestling that was disguised between the branches, impossible to spot with the naked eye. She found her eyes stinging slightly as she watched both mother and young interact. She glanced over to the photograph on herself and Anna that stood proudly by her desk, she smiled sadly at it before a squawk from the bird drew her from her reverie; swallowing the lump in her throat she pierced her sight through the viewfinder until she spotted the nest again. With the camera, she followed the trail of the bird as it darted from treetop to treetop until soaring gracefully north towards the lake in search for more food for its’ young. The camera continued to loiter on the nest, Stevie elected herself as a voluntary lookout for the nestlings’ safety until their mother returned.

Stevie made a mental note to purchase a variety of blue paint, so she could start a photo-realistic painting of the Blue Jays she had observed for the last hour, before reluctantly peeling her eyes away from the nest and towards her bedroom. The camera’s lens fell onto her brightly knitted bubble gum pink knitted socks. She zoomed in as far as possible, distinguishing the different shades of pink thread that had been sewn together. Soon enough a smile begun to spread from either cheek as she recalled the memory of she had come to acquire them.

Once a year, Cape Garner Islands would throw a condensed Christmas market, and miraculously Stevie had managed to convince Isaac to tag along with her, before he departed to Bridgeport to spend the holidays with his father. Her original plan was to ice skate and drink her body weight non-alcoholic eggnog, then finally hunt for her favourite candle stall which sold the spiced apple scented candles until she grew too cold. However, Stevie instead found herself enchanted by the lantern lit stall of knitted goods – from teapot cosies and gloves to stuffed animals the perfect gift for newborns.

Seeing as Stevie spent her last dollar on a large cinnamon sugared-coated pretzel, she reluctantly prepared to leave the stall behind, regretful that she had let her stomach rule her head again. Yet to her surprise she was pulled back by the hand, and Isaac held onto her as he purchased her a pair of her beloved knitted socks. He too, fetched himself a pair, deeming friendship bracelets to be overrated and thereby declaring the garish pink socks their new symbol of friendship.

“I really do hope you’re not wasting your extortionately overpriced camera film on photos of the most obnoxiously coloured pair of socks I’ve ever bought…” Sitting up abruptly, Stevie opened her eyes to the voice of the person her thoughts were currently clouded by, her head darting towards the doorway where Isaac leant, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling smugly at her. Stevie shook her head with disbelief and found herself grinning foolishly at him. It were only when her cheeks started to ache, did she realise that this were the first genuine smile she had cracked since learning of Sawyer and Dean’s relationship.