Ode To Summer [Tomer]

If his meta ability had done him any favors, it had been manifesting before the school year started at Hammel. Tomer didn't think he'd be able to get used to a new school, a new state, a newly malfunctioning body, and living away from his family and friends with the inclusion of maintaining a 4.0. As it stood, it was both more and less stressful than he thought it would be. More, because he was without Bee, Vivy, and his dad and had not spent more than a few nights away from home before coming, and less because his mom wasn't there. Tomer had had no idea how much of a relief that would be, and felt bad about it.

It was a strange thing too, to be his own boss. Mealtimes were set, but without the framework of classes, Tomer was left to his own devices minus any supervision. No one to tell him he ought to help with laundry or to get his nose out of his book because they were going to the park. No one to see that he might eat one of the cookies Bee had packed in his going-away present just... whenever he wanted. No one to suggest that he might practice with his crutches or do some physical therapy.

Tomer had been doing the last one without any prodding, to the point he often fell into bed at night exhausted. He was not going to be a burden. Or. More burdensome than he already was. He could still hear his mom urging him to sit down and rest, her fear and stress adding a torn-edge quality to her voice. But he wasn't going to get used to the braces and the crutches sitting down, and once classes started he had to be able to get himself around.

He'd heard the pond had koi, and Tomer was always up for seeing animals. He didn't have anything to feed them, didn't want to give them the wrong thing, so his pockets were empty of fish offerings. There was a partially eaten packet of mini Chips Ahoy there though, in case he needed help. Little chocolate chip cookies helped everything, after all.

Walking slowly, concentrating more on moving smoothy and not on speed, Tomer made his way down to the pond. It was nice and shady, and looking at water had always been calming for him. There was another person on the bench he was aiming himself at, though at first glance Tomer couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl. Sitting down with care that would not be out of place in his grandma's nursing home, Tomer felt the flush of satisfaction. Dorm to pond bench. Without a hitch. Mostly. But no tripping, no getting stuck, no swaying or tilting or falling. And if the smile he gave the other kid was at least partly celebratory, that was okay too. Leaning his crutches against the bench, Tomer's body did not slouch when he sat, but assumed rather geometric angles due to the braces under his jeans and shirt. The sleeves were short and showed off his arm and hand braces, but he didn't care. Not about the braces. About the wheelchair, yes, but that was staying in his room.

“Hello. Would you like to feed the fish too?”

"Oh." The kid came prepared. This close, Tomer was pretty sure he was a guy, but... really, who knew anymore. He took the piece of bread politely and said, "Thank you."

Tomer shredded it into crumbs and scattered a few over the water. The koi willingly swarmed to the food, gobbling with their coin purse mouths. There was probably conversation that was polite here, but Tomer could not bring himself to bother the other boy. Who knew why he was here? To reflect, to get away, or just to think. Tomer did not want to interrupt.

“You are most welcome.”

The sincerity and wording made Tomer look over. It was rare for him to run across another kid who tried to be as polite as he did, especially to other kids. It made him feel a little more at ease with the other kid... who Tomer was pretty sure was a boy. Having the protocol of good manners to fall back on was comforting, especially in a new place. The blond left him alone, which was also good, and Tomer used the time to shift till he found a position that both felt natural and wouldn't tip him over if he moved a little.

The brace Tomer had the most problem with was the one around his neck. It laid reasonably flat and was flesh colored and white so it didn't stand out too much, but it was the hardest to get used to, not being able to move his head. It meant if it wanted to look someplace new, he had to move his whole body, and that was problematic. It was now possible for him to fall over with a glance, and that both frightened and impressed him. One hand had gone up to fiddle with the edges of it, because the neck brace in combination with the one that encased his middle meant he couldn't bend over to inspect the fish any closer than he was. Not without falling over at some point, anyway.

He was surprised when the boy spoke again. “I think that one's my favourite. The one with the blue shimmer and the black spot on its back.”

Tomer blinked and then looked over into the water. The indicated fish stood out from the others, and he smiled a little. With all of the movement and spotted bodies, it was a little difficult to discern individuals, but Tomer thought he'd seen the right one. "I don't have a favorite," he ventured in a soft voice. "This is my first time seeing them."

“My name is Sebastian. I do not recall seeing you before, are you new here?”

Again Tomer was struck by the formality of it, marveling a little. He was being spoken to... like an adult. Out of a book. It was surreal and so novel (sorry) that it cut through Tomer's natural bashfulness. Moving till he could partially face the bigger boy, he said, "I'm Tomer Berelowitz. I got here two days ago." And because it was true, though he'd never said it before, he added, "It's nice to meet you."

Looking back down at the fish, Tomer crumbled another small handful of bread and tossed in a longer arc, to distribute the crumbs in a wider area so that more of the fish could get some. Some of it got stuck in his hand brace, but he used a finger to brush them out. Looking again over at Sebastian, he weighed his words, and finally asked, "How long have you been here?"

Obviously long enough to have a favorite fish, but that could mean years or it could mean an hour.

As with all other aspects of his life, Tomer had had extensive conversations with Bee about How To Be Good, and one aspect they'd discussed quite a bit was something Tomer's dad called 'being the better person'. Of course, Tomer and Bee had both agreed that the first thing they needed to do in order to be this better person was to not call it 'being the better person', and had finally decided to refer to it as 'being the more situationally polite'. Living in NYC and being a kids, both friends had more often than not been the more situationally polite, but had also been confident that they were dramatically reducing the levels of worldsuck. DFTBA.

So it was more than lovely that someone was not only not forcing Tomer into that role, but putting him on the receiving end of it. He was still on the fence regarding the whole staring vs. asking thing. Staring meant people left you alone... but were still staring, which had been horrible for Tomer before he'd been disabled. However, the explanation for the crutches and braces often made people stare even harder, so it was a lose-lose. Apparently, as meta side effects went, permanent partial paralysis was a little extreme. Tomer figured if it was going to happen to someone, it might as well be someone as versed as he was in situational politeness... which he was not having to exercise. For once.

“This is one of my favourite places to come. It is often so quiet and peaceful, away from all the noise and bustle.”

Tomer nodded, or he did and then remembered nothing would show. Inconvenient. "Yes," he said instead. "And you can watch the fish and not think about anything."

“It is my pleasure to meet you too, Tomer. I hope you are settling here quickly.”

"I'm trying." There hadn't been much to unpack, and once his bed had been made, his laptop and printer set up, and his clothes put away, there had just been... adjusting.

“I have been here a little over three weeks. Have you had a chance to look around properly yet? If not I would be happy to show you where everything is.”

"I have a map." He didn't want to bother Sebastian, especially when he'd been so nice already. "I don't... I don't walk very fast. There's time before classes start. I can find things. Thank you, though."

Oh. Reaching into his pocket, Tomer took out the packet of cookies and held it out with a shy smile. "Want one?"

“It is; there are so few places here where you can just relax and not have to worry as much.”

"Outside your room, anyway," Tomer said. That said, too long in his room made him feel weird. Not isolated, that wasn't possible with the noise from his roommates and the other boys in the dorm, but being alone in his room seemed to emphasize to Tomer that it wasn't his bedroom, that it was Somewhere Else, a place where being-in-public rules always applied, a place Tomer didn't think he'd ever feel completely relaxed. Still, in his room with the door locked was the only time Tomer could take off all his braces and lay in bed, trying to feel normal, but it was still nervous business and didn't feel very private.

“Sometimes it is nice to be able to sit and not think. It is sometimes difficult here, but not impossible.”

"That's good." Tomer squinted at the pond, suddenly thinking of something. "I wonder if you can see the fish through the ice in winter."

“Should you change your mind at any point. I would be happy to assist you. It would really be no trouble.”

That was both very nice and sounded... a little... like a butler on TV? Automated? Curious. Still, Tomer blushed a little. "Thank you."

He looked at Sebastian for a moment and yeah, the kid looked human enough. Was discomfort making him talk that way, or was this how he sounded all the time? Far be it for Tomer to question politeness, but he hoped Sebastian wasn't doing it out of either pity or nervousness. As one who knew what anxiety looked like, the blond looked relaxed enough, and hadn't ended the conversation. Tomer thought he ought to stop looking his gift horse in the mouth.

“Thank you for the offer, but... I shouldn't, I'm afraid. I'm on a rather strict diet.”

"Oh? I'm sorry." Tomer didn't know which diet Sebastian was referring to, but knew kids at his school who were diabetic or had celiac disease, and he tucked the cookies away quickly. It was never fun for those kids to be reminded of things they couldn't eat, and he felt bad for maybe doing that to Sebastian.

Hoping to smooth over it, he asked, "Where are you from? I'm from New York City."

"They must be fine, or they'd have to put in new fish every spring," he said. And... probably clean out all the dead ones too. Ew. Something that potentially traumatic would not likely fly at Hammel, so Tomer guessed the fish were okay, if perhaps a little unhealthy from all the things people fed them. Tomer didn't feel guilty though. He figured being around several hundred meta kids earned them some treats. Besides, he wasn't dumb. There were probably a lot of things tossed into the pond that weren't food.

“Oh, no. Please don't feel the need to hide them on my behalf. I feel no hunger for them, it's okay.”

"Oh... I'm not... hiding them." Tomer blushed a little. "It's just rude to keep them out if you can't have any. I've already had some."

“I am from Door County, in Wisconsin. I have never been to New York City but I hear it is a very interesting place. In the pictures I have seen it always seems very... crowded and busy.”

"It is crowded and busy," Tomer said, "but there's every kind of food you could think of and a lot to do. Museums and libraries and zoos. But it's hard to be a kid. You have to be really careful and you can't go out alone. I know there's places kids can just go outside and... ride bikes or whatever, but not in New York City."

It was one of the things his parents regretted about the city, how the kids had to stay in the apartment a great deal and had to have so much supervision when they left. Now that Abby was sixteen she was allowed to walk to school with her friends and run down the block to pick up a gallon of milk, but she still had to carry pepper spray and Mom had insisted on self defense classes. And of course she could only run errands when it was crowded. Tomer's mom believed the more people around to witness a crime, the better.

"I've never been to Wisconsin," he said. "I've been to Pittsburgh though. My grandparents live there."

Pittsburgh was as far west (and, incidentally, south) as Tomer had ever gotten. His family didn't have a lot of extra money once bills and college funds had been seen to, and since both parents worked, vacations had been more about spending time together.

"Is Wisconsin very different from here?" Most what Tomer knew about Wisconsin involved cheese, beer, and the Green Bay Packers. He guessed it was the same as how people not from New York City knew it had crowds, noise, and crime. (...And Broadway.)

Tomer had to wonder. The things the koi had been around during, the things they'd seen. Science said goldfish had longer memories than people thought, up to three years. Koi had bigger brains, who knew how long they remembered things?

“I do not mind, honestly. I... have never had one before, so I do not feel any longing for them.”

"Never? Really?" Tomer was thinking celiac rather than diabetes now, and felt bad for the guy. The Berelowitzes tried to eat healthy, lots of vegetables and whole grains, but did not deny themselves treats. Still, that's what packs of cookies like that were, treats. Eaten sparingly, savored. Or kept around as a possible reward for helping the newly disabled.

“Please do not feel rude about this on my behalf.”

"Oh. Uh. Well, it's just the nice thing to do."

After Sebastian spoke, Tomer clarified, "It's not difficult if it's what you're used to."

Which he was. At this point it was a little weird for Tomer to do things like this, just going outside without an adult and walk around. Sure he was on the Hammel campus, but it felt very odd to be alone. A little scary, even though he knew small town Vermont was in no way like New York City, and a little intoxicating, doing something he knew only adults could do.

And then his eyebrows rose. "You've never been to a library?"

Tomer had gone once a week and loaded up his schoolbag till he thought the seams would split under the strain. His face broke into a smile at the thought of one of his favorite places in the world. "It's books and books and books. Not all the books you'd ever want to read, but a lot of them. And all for free. I love the library." He blinked. "Hammel has a library, have you been there? I haven't. Yet."

A thought occurred to him. Just because Sebastian wanted to see a library didn't mean - "Do you like reading? I do."

When asked about his home, the blond got so still and quiet that Tomer was afraid for a minute he might cry. He wasn't homesick, not yet, and feared the time he would become so. It was not going to be pretty. Wisconsin wasn't as far away as some of the kids had come from, but it was still half across the country. Tomer regretted asking, but he couldn't have known Sebastian missed his home this much.

"You'll go back one day," Tomer said, trying to be comforting. "And... you're getting to see a whole new place. It's kind of an adventure. It might not feel like it, but we're both doing something not a lot of people do."