Tate couldn’t help but laugh at a little at ‘she was nice’.Poor, poor naive boy ; Constance was a cold-hearted bitch, but he’d learn over time. His mother had something of a skill at getting on people’s bad sides. “Seventeen,” he replied. The cigarette was brought up to his lips for once last puff before he snuffed it against the soul of his shoe. He’d typically just toss it into the yard, but despite his severe lack of social skills, even he knew that would be rude right in front of Blaine. “Happy early birthday, man. I’ll try to remember that.” He was right around Violet’s age.
“I uhm, I actually don’t go to that school anymore. They kicked me out. For fighting.” He draped his arm around the banister at the end of the stair’s railing to lean against. Tate’s game plan was to make enough conversation, and linger enough, that he was invited inside ; This kid seemed friendly enough. “My mom homeschools me now. I don’t — I don’t make friends very easily, I guess. So, when ma told me you just moved in, and you were right around my age, I wanted to come say hi. So — hi.”
Blaine noticed the laugh and had to wonder exactly how badly the strange woman had to get on her son’s nerves to earn that kind of sardonic chuckle just from someone telling him she was nice. Interesting dynamic, perhaps? How interesting, though? In the end? At least she was around to get on her son’s nerves. Who knew what was better? Absentee or hover parenting? Maybe they could compare notes one day. Hazel eyes brightened and a truly grateful smile greeted the birthday wish. “Thanks. I have no plans yet. If you do remember, you should come by.” It’d be better than spending it alone and if he wasn’t alone? The company to distract him from his parents and his brother (if he was free enough to visit) was more than welcome.
So, that was why he didn’t recognize Tate in the slightest. Blaine motioned towards a planter where he could get rid of his cigarette butt. No one would notice it there. “Why were you the one kicked out?” Genuine curiosity was clear in his voice. “If you don’t mind me asking? Wait–sorry. Before you answer that,” he thumbed over his shoulder towards the door, “Did you want to come in?” Bending, he grabbed his bag and waited for Tate to take him up on the offer. “I’m sure I can find us something to eat if you’re hungry?”
pianokeysandbowties 