Out of Character by Annabeth Albert

Chapter Five

Jasper

“It’s got to be here somewhere.” I pulled my coat tighter around myself as I dug through boxes. My parents’ detached garage was freezing, but I had no choice but to keep looking. Wednesday was only two days away, and thanks to a heavy class schedule, this Monday night visit was my only chance to grab the garb before then.

“What exactly is it you’re looking for?” My mom poked her head in the door. She’d put on a colorful knit hat and scarf for the trek to the garage, and I felt bad for making her come outside.

“A box of stuff Ronnie left before he and everyone else headed to London at winter break.”

“We’re holding stuff for Ronnie?” She gestured at the packed space that held remnants of five childhoods, various seasonal hobbies, holiday decor, and the usual assortment of bikes and yard-work tools.

“And Jaida,” I admitted. Jaida and Ronnie had both needed to stash stuff before the big London trip, and I’d figured three more boxes wouldn’t make that much difference. “But not much. Just cosplay stuff. And I need it for Wednesday.”

“Oh? Did you finally find your prince?” Smiling, she waggled her eyebrows at me.

“Sort of.” I wasn’t quite ready to tell her about Milo. She was still friendly with Milo’s mom, and I didn’t need to take a ride on the Awkward Town express right then. Instead of meeting her eyes, I busied myself with moving a few boxes of Christmas decorations. At the bottom of the stack was a white box with Ronnie’s blocky writing on it. “Found it!”

“Good for you!” She gave me a high five as I tucked the box in to my side and made my way back to the door.

“Yeah. I knew I would. Sorry if I made the mess worse.”

“It’s okay. Dinner is almost ready. You’re staying, right?” Pulling her hat down over her ears, she led the way back to the house.

“What is it?” I was staying regardless because her cooking always beat dorm food or needing to buy dinner, but I didn’t want to appear too desperate or I’d be headed back to my dorm loaded down with a week’s worth of leftovers and snacks.

“Chicken enchiladas and bean soup.”

“Yeah, I could eat that.” I paused to stamp off my shoes in the mudroom. I stashed the box next to my shoes and backpack. If I was staying, I knew the rules, and I headed to the sink before she could remind me to wash up. April would be down soon, and she’d want a hug, so I scrubbed extra well under my nails and up my wrists, the process automatic from years of precautions.

“Jasper!” Right on schedule, April trooped down the stairs. Her hair, same red as mine, was pulled up into a high ponytail, little wisps escaping to make her look far younger than fifteen. The baby of the family, she was also small for her age with delicate features and slim limbs, but she was surprisingly strong as she clung to me in a tight hug.

“Wash,” Mom ordered.

“I’ll set the table.” Unlike most of my siblings, I never minded doing chores for my mom. I liked being useful, liked knowing that no matter how stressed and worried she got, there was something I could do for her.

The dishes were still hot from the sterilizing cycle in the dishwasher, and they felt good against my chilled hands. Already changed out of his uniform, Dad came in from the front of the house as I finished, and he went right to the sink too. We were all super well-trained. Anything to keep April safe.

“You’re coming Wednesday, right?” I asked April as I took a seat opposite her. “Hospital administrators might stop by. We need our elf.”

“I’m coming. Mom made me a new mask that matches the costume since it’s still flu season, but it’s hardly canon for the trickster elf to need a mask and gloves.”

“You make your own canon. And you’re one of our best players. The kids all love playing you.”

“I am good.” She gave me a toothy smile as Mom set the food on the table. I way preferred the times when April could tag along, one of our group, to when she was one of the patients we visited. She’d had another lengthy hospitalization that past summer, and like Mom, I worried constantly about rogue germs. But we also couldn’t keep someone with her kind of energy home indefinitely. She’d most likely be dealing with the genetic blood disorder that affected her immune system the rest of her life, and it was always a balancing act between keeping her safe and letting her have the same freedoms as the rest of us.

“Did you find a Prince Neptune?” April asked as I took a portion of the piping-hot enchiladas. Her voice was even more eager than her texts, which was saying something. Neptune was unquestionably April’s favorite character so finding a cosplayer for him, even if it were Milo, made me happy. Honestly, there wasn’t much I wouldn’t do to make April smile. Considering everything she had to put up with, procuring a prince was the least I could do.

“Yup.”

“My hero.” She said it jokingly, but that right there was a big part of why I liked doing things for her so much. In my friend group, I wasn’t the resident genius or the best Odyssey player or the hottest person. I made an excellent sidekick. A bonus friend, there to make even numbers or crack a joke at the right moment. With April, though, every so often I got to play hero. I might be an afterthought for others, but with her I could be Super Big Brother.

“Thanks.”

“Who is it? Someone from the college?” She leaned forward. April lived for college gossip, especially since she’d transitioned to online high school after catching several bad infections from bugs going around the school. She hated being the only Quigley kid who wouldn’t graduate from our neighborhood school. She’d been down, and that was another reason why I was relieved to have found a Neptune, even if I was still less than thrilled with the who.

“No. It’s…” Oh hell. She was going to recognize him right away, and Mom would as well, if she brought April. I took a bite of too-hot food, trying to buy time, and immediately regretted it as I scorched my tongue. And my stupid brain immediately leaped to a vision of Milo from the day before, his pink tongue worrying his full lips. Damn it. Why couldn’t he be a little less hot?

Of course, if he weren’t so appealing, he wouldn’t be so perfect as Neptune. But that perfection was going to come at a cost to my sanity. For the hundredth time, I second-guessed what the heck I was doing. I’d texted with him for a good hour the night before, answering questions about Neptune lore that Milo could have discovered perfectly well on his own, only stopping when Kellan and Jasmine came to collect me for food. And really, I should have been grateful for the interruption. I wasn’t supposed to find any part of this…arrangement fun.

“Who is it?” Mom prodded, concern evident in her eyes. She wasn’t the biggest fan of some of the game-store crowd, and she was probably already visualizing someone entirely unsuitable to have around April.

Heck. No choice but to share the truth, or at least a version of it. “Milo. Funniest thing, but he came into the store, and we got to talking and he…volunteered.”

“Milo Lionetti?” Mom frowned, which wasn’t the reaction I’d expected.

“Heard he got himself into some trouble a while back.” Dad’s expression was even more grim.

“He sure is cute trouble,” April added, which got her pointed looks from all three of us.

“I haven’t seen him since the funeral.” Shaking her head, Mom cut her food into neat pieces. “Poor Cathy. That boy has put her through the ringer on top of everything else she’s had to endure. And she’s not the only one. Jasper, do you really want to get involved with him again?”

“We’re not involved.” My fork clattered against my plate. Business. This was business. A transaction. A Neptune for Kellan and April and the kids at the hospital. Some help for Milo, but even that was more for Bruno, who hadn’t deserved his dumbass brother losing his cards. Involved was not even remotely on the table.

Across from me, April smirked like she knew better. And then my phone buzzed in my pocket and I immediately wondered if it was Milo. Damn it. Even friendship would be beyond stupid. He’d proved enough times that he wasn’t to be trusted.

“Good.” Dad nodded firmly before returning his attention to his food. I got why they were both firmly anti-Milo. I’d moped for months when our friendship had ended, and they’d had to hear more than one tale of woe in the following years about Milo’s new crowd and their idea of jokes involving the smart kids.

Involved.Back then, I hadn’t allowed myself to hope for Milo being anything other than my best friend, especially once that friendship had been lost. I had been only starting to find other people cute back then, and while my heart might have had some private wishes, I tried hard to ignore any…reactions to his nearness. Unlike now, when my body most definitely had noted Milo was all grown up.

“You’re months from graduation.” My mom must have picked up my train of thought. Milo wasn’t the only one who was an adult now. I too had the real world waiting.

“Yup. Don’t need any distractions,” I agreed. I had a possibility of a job in NYC after graduation, and maybe that was part of why I’d been so desperate to find a Prince Neptune. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about leaving April and Kellan and everyone else here. Felt weird to be down to mere months. But at least I could make sure they were good months, and maybe eventually I’d sort myself out.

April’s laugh cut through my tumbling thoughts. “I’d take a distraction about now. Especially if it looked like—”

“You’re only fifteen. Maybe you spending time with Jasper’s crowd isn’t a good idea,” Mom grumbled, which only made April groan.

“It’ll be fine,” I said before an argument could break out. “He’ll probably only be Neptune the one time anyway.”

Buzz.My pocket vibrated again. Heck. Maybe not even the one time if he was messaging to bail. Mom had a strict no-phones-at-the-table rule, so it wasn’t until after I helped clear and wash the dishes that I got a chance to look at my messages. I leaned against the washer in the mudroom as I scrolled my phone.

Several from Kellan, of course. He wanted to show me his latest design for upgrades to his mage outfit. Unlike some of us, Kellan cosplayed as multiple characters depending on his mood and the event. And each costume needed approval from the rest of us. I added my thumbs-up and scrolled on. Arthur wanted to confirm my work schedule for the weekend, but none of those messages made my pulse thrum like seeing Milo’s name.

Hey. Did you find the costume?

You’re hoping I didn’t. Don’t lie.I laughed as I typed. Yup. Checked the sandals. Size twelve. Think that will work?

His reply came while I was still packing up. Yeah. That’s my size too. And uh…I’ve been wondering what goes under the toga?

My answering chuckle was loud enough to make Mom glance my way from where she was putting away leftovers in the kitchen. Oops. No distractions. No involvement. Seriousness only. Except somehow my fingers didn’t get the message.

You worried it’s like a kilt? ROFL. And TBH, Ronnie and I weren’t tight like that. Never looked.

That wasn’t entirely true. I’d never hooked up with Ronnie, but I knew perfectly well that he wore something under the toga. I didn’t want to examine too closely why I was having fun with Milo. And of course my pulse leaped with the next response. Okay. I’m gonna bring some shorts or something, unless that’s against cosplay rules?

There’s no rules. And sure, I’m not asking you to go bare-assed. Wear what you want under it.

But as soon as I typed that, my brain was filled with images of Milo in various stages of undress, a parade of all the possible underwear options. He probably wore boring mono-colored cotton boxers like all the jocks seemed to favor, but my brain enjoyed the mental fashion show waiting for his reply way too much.

Good. I have some white compression shorts. I’m probably overthinking this, right?

Yup. I’d been right. Jock gear. But there was something almost…vulnerable in his reply. Like he was worried about something more than ending up commando under a toga. I added a frazzled-looking emoji with steam coming out of its brain. Quite possibly. You’re nervous?

I don’t get nervous. Just don’t like public humiliation.

Well, okay then. Nice to know how he saw cosplay. My fingers hammered out my retort even as my back tensed with a thousand unwanted memories. Except when you’re handing it out.

I kind of expected that would end the exchange, and indeed there was a long pause, but the bubbles kept showing like he was typing. However, no message came, and I gave my mom a hug and headed out to my car. Still little bubbles, as if he was typing and erasing. And damn it, I was curious enough to wait a few more minutes while the car warmed up. Finally, the phone buzzed.

I’m sorry. You got a raw deal in school for sure. I was a shit. We all were. And I know it means dick now, but I’d do it differently if I could.

My chest did a weird flip as my hand tightened on my phone. He’d said sorry the day before, but I hadn’t believed him. And honestly, I didn’t entirely now either. He was likely only regretting that he needed my help and that I hadn’t forgiven him easily. But at least he was owning that he was an ass back then—him and his lousy friends.

Even now, I could remember his jock buddies and their stupid jokes and the way Milo had always stood there, mouth a tight line, eyes grim, shoulders stiff like he was next on the chopping block. Except he never was. He’d been a golden boy for the popular crowd, and I refused to let my brain process the idea of him doing things differently. Because what if we’d never argued? What if we’d stayed friends? What if he’d stood up for me? Too many what-ifs for my head to hold, that was for sure. And I just wasn’t ready for a world where Milo might have genuinely changed. Even if his apology felt good, believing in it—or him—would be beyond foolish.