Chapter 90: Chapter 90: The Fall Festival, Part Five
Chapter 90: The Fall Festival, Part Five
"That sweater is expensive."
The sales clerk’s warning hung in the air for a second.
Cyrus had not even had the chance to ask whether they carried his size. He stood with the dark blue-and-green sweater folded over one arm, looking from the clerk to the price tag that had been tucked beneath the collar.
A familiar voice came from behind him.
"If you never work for it, it will always be expensive."
Audra stepped into the store as though she had every right to be there.
The clerk looked past Cyrus, saw Audra, and immediately lost the tone she had been using. Audra did not raise her voice or give the woman an unfriendly look. She simply stood beside Cyrus in her beige coat, carrying a small shopping bag from the toy store.
That was enough.
The clerk turned back toward the counter.
"If you would like to try it on, I can check the sizes," she said.
Cyrus had already noticed the price.
Even with the sale, the sweater cost more than five hundred dollars.
He looked at it again.
The fabric was soft. The colors had seemed good from a distance. At that price, however, the sweater had become much less appealing.
Audra glanced at the one in his hands.
"That does not suit you," she said.
Cyrus looked down at the sweater.
"The colors seem fine."
"It is too bright."
He did not understand why that mattered.
Audra did not explain. Her attention moved from the sweater to Cyrus himself, lingering briefly on the uniform he still wore beneath his jacket.
If Cyrus revealed his real face, he could probably wear almost anything. His hair, his features, and the strange coldness that clung to him would make even plain clothes look deliberate.
That was exactly why he kept himself hidden.
A bright sweater would only make people notice him sooner. It would draw attention to the wrong places, make him stand out in crowds, and ruin the forgettable image he worked so hard to maintain.
Audra did not say any of that aloud.
The reasoning appeared in her mind so naturally that she did not question it until Cyrus checked the price tag again.
His expression changed.
"Oh," he said. "Then it definitely does not suit me."
Audra watched him place the sweater back on the rack.
The answer was so practical that it should have been funny. Instead, it made something twist in her chest.
He had received the academic award recently. He worked evenings. He took extra shifts whenever The Full Moon Lounge needed him. Yet a single expensive sweater was enough to make him give up without hesitation.
Audra knew Cyrus was careful with money.
She had not realized he measured every purchase this closely.
He turned toward the exit.
"I will keep looking," Cyrus said.
"My family has a clothing store," Audra said. "They have more reasonable prices. I could show you where it is."
Cyrus paused but did not turn around immediately.
When he finally looked back at her, his expression was polite and distant.
"You do not need to do that. I can look around on my own."
Audra’s fingers tightened around the shopping bag.
Why did he keep refusing her?
She had offered tutoring, he had treated it like a convenient study arrangement. She had offered access to a tailor, and he had turned it down before even asking where the store was. Every time she tried to give him something, he accepted only when he had no choice or when the offer could be made to sound ordinary.
He did not seem to understand that she was trying to help.
Or perhaps he understood too well.
For one ugly second, Audra thought about the glamourkin ring.
If Cyrus looked at it, he would listen.
She could make him stop walking away. She could make him accept the clothes, answer every question, and stop treating her as though she were the one person in the room he needed to avoid.
The thought disappeared as quickly as it came.
There were too many people in the store.
Even if there had not been, she had promised herself she would not touch the ring until she understood what it was doing to her.
Audra lowered her hand from her collarbone.
Cyrus had already left the store.
She followed at a slower pace.
A few storefronts away, he stopped outside the toy store again.
Audra reached him just as he leaned closer to the display window.
The shelves inside held model kits, plush animals, building sets, video games, notebooks, novelty pencils, and plastic figures arranged in bright rows. Cyrus’s attention moved from the toys to a rack of stationery near the entrance.
Several pens had labels advertising different scents.
Strawberry.
Mango.
Vanilla.
Cyrus picked up one of the strawberry pens and studied it.
Humans really did have too much time.
Why would anyone make a pen smell like fruit? Someone could easily mistake it for a snack if they were hungry enough and not paying attention.
He placed it back.
Beside him, Audra reached for the same pen.
Cyrus turned his head.
Audra carried it to the register without saying anything.
She paid for it with a smooth tap of her card, then slipped it into her bag.
Cyrus watched her in silence.
Thirty dollars for a novelty pen could buy actual strawberries.
He decided not to mention that.
People with money sometimes spent it on things that made no sense. That was their business.
The next clothing store was much less intimidating.
It carried loose sweaters, plain overshirts, long-sleeved shirts, jackets, and jeans arranged by season. Nothing on the racks looked especially fancy. The prices were reasonable enough that Cyrus could think about them without feeling personally attacked.
He chose two outfits.
One was a charcoal-gray sweater with a lighter shirt to wear underneath. The other was a dark green overshirt with a simple black tee. Both were loose enough to feel comfortable and plain enough that he could wear them without attracting attention.
Audra followed him through the store with the expression of someone trying very hard not to take over.
Cyrus could feel her looking at the clothes he held up.
When he reached for a size that was too large, she corrected him.
"That one will hang badly."
"It is supposed to be loose."
"There is loose, and then there is wearing something like a curtain."
Cyrus looked at the shirt.
"It seems fine."
"It is not fine."
The sales clerk took one look at Audra’s expression and quietly offered Cyrus a smaller size.
He tried it on.
Unfortunately, Audra had been right.
The shirt fit better than the first one.
Cyrus bought the two outfits, along with a simple black hoodie that had been discounted near the register. The total came to a little more than four hundred dollars.
It hurt.
It also felt good.
His closet would no longer consist almost entirely of school uniforms and work clothes. He had enough to rotate through when the weather grew colder, and the purchases did not ruin his savings.
That counted as progress.
Audra watched him carry the shopping bag out of the store.
He had taken her advice, even if he had complained about it with every expression he made.
Women were complicated.
The mall lockers were still crowded with haunted-house supplies when the four students met again.
Owen had found a pack of batteries they had forgotten earlier. Iris had picked up a small set of plastic bugs to scatter through the haunted house. Audra returned with the white fabric and her shopping bag. Cyrus arrived carrying his new clothes in a plain paper sack.
They brought the festival supplies back to St. Alder Academy and spent some time sorting them inside the classroom.
The cardboard went against one wall.
The lanterns and batteries went into a labeled box.
The black fabric, white gauze, fake cobwebs, and plastic chains were stacked together for the students who had volunteered to handle the decorations.
Once everything had been divided, Owen looked around the room.
"That should be enough for today," he said. "We got everything on the list."
Cyrus let out a quiet breath.
The festival preparation had been more work than he expected.
It was also more organized than it had looked from a distance. Everyone had a job, every item had a place, and the haunted house was gradually becoming real through a pile of cheap supplies and students willing to spend their weekend putting them together.
Outside the front entrance, Owen and Iris walked ahead of the others.
"Get home safe," Owen called, raising a hand.
Iris offered a smaller wave beside him.
Cyrus nodded and headed down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, his shopping bag held close to his side.
Audra did not follow openly.
He did not notice the black sedan parked farther down the street.
The car was ordinary enough to blend into the row of vehicles waiting near the curb. Its windows were dark, and the driver remained still behind the wheel.
Cyrus passed it without a second thought.
He stopped at a bakery a few blocks later and bought two small cakes.
One was strawberry.
The other was mango.
Then he continued toward Faye’s house.
The walk was not long. He had already been there once, and he remembered the route well enough to find it without checking his phone. Faye had lent him comics, fed him breakfast, invited him into her home, and made it clear that he was welcome around Miles and Lena.
Showing up empty-handed every time would be shameless.
Cyrus rang the bell.
Faye opened the door.
At home, she looked different from the quiet girl who sat in front of him at school. Her hair was loose, and she wore a simple cardigan over a long skirt, with none of the careful school posture that made her seem as though she wanted to disappear into the background.
"Cyrus?" she said. "You are here? Why did you not text first?"
"I was nearby," he said. "I thought I would stop in for a minute."
He held out the small bakery box.
"For you."
Faye looked down at it.
"What is this?"
"Cake," Cyrus said. "The manga was good. Thank you for lending it to me."
Faye did not take the box right away.
"You did not have to buy this."
Cyrus smiled slightly.
She accepted it after that, though she still looked uncertain about whether she should.
"Do you want to come in for tea?" she asked. "I can make some quickly."
"Tomorrow," Cyrus said. "I should get home today."
Faye nodded.
"All right. Then I will see you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow."
Cyrus turned to leave.
After taking several steps, he stopped and glanced back at her.
"The thing you like more should not make you hesitate."
Faye blinked.
"What do you mean?"
Cyrus had already started walking away.
He did not explain.
Faye remained in the doorway with the bakery box in both hands. Her other hand lifted automatically in a small wave, but she did not lower it for a while after Cyrus disappeared down the sidewalk.
Inside, Miles heard the door close.
"Who was that?" he called.
Lena appeared from the living room a second later.
Faye carried the cakes inside before either of them could crowd her at the entryway.
"It was Cyrus," she said.
Miles immediately looked interested.
"Did he bring those?"
"He said they were to thank me for the comics."
Lena leaned closer to the box.
"Can we have some?"
Faye smiled despite herself.
"Yes, we can share."
She divided both small cakes into three portions.
Miles claimed the mango one first. Lena asked for the strawberry. Faye took what remained and placed the tiny plates on the coffee table.
Then she stopped.
Cyrus had asked whether she liked strawberry or mango more.
She had answered strawberry after a pause.
At the time, she had thought she was only giving him an answer because he had asked. She had not considered why he wanted to know. She had not considered that he might notice the hesitation in her voice.
He had bought both.
The one she preferred should not make her hesitate.
Faye looked down at the two different cakes.
What did she prefer?
A quiet afternoon with her siblings.
Cooking something everyone liked.
Being useful.
Having enough time to keep the house steady.
Those were things she needed to do. They were not always things she chose for herself.
The realization left her still.
Across the street, inside the black sedan, Audra watched the front door of Faye’s house close.
"Take us back," she said.
The driver pulled away from the curb.
Audra sat in the rear seat with both hands folded over her bag.
She had followed Cyrus on impulse.
At first, she had told herself it was only curiosity. He had left the school in the opposite direction from his apartment, carrying a shopping bag and moving with the cautious purpose he had whenever he had decided on something without telling anyone.
Then he bought cake.
Then he brought it to Faye.
Audra could not stop thinking about the smile Cyrus had given her at the door.
He rarely smiled at Audra.
With her, he stayed guarded. He answered politely, refused help, watched for hidden motives, and acted as though every conversation might turn into another problem.
With Faye, he had looked relaxed.
He had brought cake.
He had waited for her to accept it.
The irritation building in Audra’s chest had no clear place to go.
Why was he warm toward Faye but distant with her?
What exactly was their relationship?
Did Faye know anything about him? Did she know why Cyrus hid himself, why he wore that ring, why he never seemed to trust anyone who offered too much?
Audra turned toward the window as Grayhaven moved past in muted afternoon light.
There was only one way to find out.
She needed to ask Faye.
Or she needed to ask Cyrus himself.
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