It was a Saturday afternoon. Lenny was off doing . . . something. He'd said this morning what his afternoon plans were, but Cole had since forgotten, and he wasn't in their room. It was too cold and rainy to go flying for fun, and he was quite sure he got enough practice doing Quidditch in bad weather during practices that happened to coincide with miserable weather (it seemed to rain here an awful lot for being in a desert). He didn't want to do homework or study because it was Saturday. There was no challenge today, and he wasn't feeling inclined toward whichever it was of the Art Clubs that was meeting this afternoon.
He was, in short, a bit bored. And when he got bored, he got hungry. So he decided he'd head down to the Cascade Hall and grab a cookie or something. But that would take like two whole minutes and he had a whole afternoon to fill. Before he left his room, his eye happened to land on his box of LEGOs.
On a whim, he grabbed it and carried it down with him, hoping maybe Yarielis or Chris might be around to build with him.
It was between meals so there wasn't a huge number of being around in the Hall. He staked out a space at one of the tables (Teppenpaw's, as it happened, because he was a creature of habit), opened his box, and spilled out some of the LEGOs so people could see they were the activity in progress.
Then he summoned up a cookie. As he bit into it, he wondered if he should send out formal invitations, but then he spotted someone approaching his table and figured he wouldn't be alone much longer anyway.
Cole chewed and swallowed quickly, then grinned at the potential company and waved invitingly at his LEGOs. "Hi! Want to join me?"
Rainy days were problematic for Yarielis. They made it crowded inside, and undesirable to go outside—well, apart from the part where there weren’t any people out there. All the good indoor spaces filled up quickly. The sports room was always taken, the library was busy… It was hard to find somewhere to put yourself, to the point that Yarielis was considering whether flying in the rain wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Irish weather, which was what the school apparently had, was weird. It was very damp and very changeable. Yarielis didn’t have any real weather predicting abilities, but it seemed like even the best of them would have been in for a tough one trying to predict Sonora’s weather. The only thing you could predict was that it was unpredictable. Which meant that it might get better later…
Yarielis headed to the Cascade Hall with two goals in mind. First, an afternoon snack. That way, if the weather picked up, it would be possible to get in a solid bit of flying and then have a later dinner (thus avoiding more people). Second, do some homework somewhere that wasn’t the over-stuffed library.
Apparently, Yarielis wasn’t the only one with that plan though. Well, it was unlikely that Cole was here to avoid people, because he was super sociable. If anything, he was probably meeting someone, as he seemed to have set up an activity on the table. Lego. Like when they’d been at his parents’ booth at the fair… That was a nice memory. It hadn’t been entirely chill and stress free, but that was a Yarielis problem, not an anyone-else problem. Being one to one was stressful, because it felt like there was so much pressure to fill the silence. Being part of a group was stressful, because there were so many people. Any state of being, right down to being alone, was something that could crawl underneath the Crotalus’ skin and start to itch. The one common denominator in all those situations was Yarielis. The only place where it lessened slightly was when slipping into pure fantasy. Cole had been one part of the Lego experience that had mostly helped rather than stressed though.
When he turned and extended an invitation, Yarielis actually glanced back, even though it was unlikely that anyone else had entered unnoticed.
“Who were you waiting for?” Yarielis asked, reluctant to join without knowing who that meant forced proximity with.
Yarielis glanced behind her as Cole offered his invitation. Cole looked, too, but didn't see anybody there. Had she been planning to meet someone else down here and she was checking to see if they had arrived yet. Her question seemed to suggest that was the normal way to go about rainy afternoons, but Cole just shrugged. "Nobody really. I was hungry for a snack," he held up his half-eaten cookie by way of demonstration, "and brought along some LEGOs just because it's raining and miserable outside. I was thinking of sending you and Chris owls to invite you to join me, but hadn't gotten around to it yet," he explained his lack of organization for the spur of the moment activity he'd decided upon.
He waved at the table in invitation again, "But you showed up, so it must be kismet or something." He wasn't sure if he was using the word 'kismet' correctly or not, but he thought it was close. 'Or something' would hopefully explain any improper usage of the term he'd only heard used once or twice before. "Wanna build something with me?"
Right now the blocks were just scattered across the surface of the table, so clearly nothing had been started yet. "I just got here myself," he added.
Cole wasn’t waiting for Lenny. Or anyone, in fact, but most importantly his twin hadn’t been mentioned, which hopefully meant he wasn’t coming, which vastly increased Yarielis’ chances of not doing something awful and making Cole mad. Even more than that, he’d been considering owling Yarielis!
“Me?” The word just slipped out, accompanied by a happy smile. It was stupid to be surprised—at least, to be so out loud, on the surface where other people could see it. It made total sense to be surprised, but Cole was one of those people who found it so easy to make friends that he’d probably think it was weird, and anyway, even if he didn’t, it was just better to keep your feelings on the inside unless you knew everyone agreed with them. Yarielis tried to move past it quickly, hurrying over to sit down next to Cole.
Yarielis wasn’t sure what word Cole had just used but it sounded like a compliment the way he said it. And, much as it was surprising every time Yarielis rediscovered that they really were friends, Cole wasn’t the sort to go around insulting people.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” Yarielis confirmed when he offered to build together, eyes roaming over the bricks and the options. “Did you have anything in mind?” Once that had been discussed, Yarielis added. “Have you always been into Legos?”
“Nope, nothing specific in mind,” Cole denied having any plans for what to build. “Maybe a boat?” he ventured as a wild idea, just to see what Yarielis thought of it, but feeling no particular attachment to it if she wanted to build something else.
Her next question was a little harder to answer, but that was mostly because he was getting dangerously close to the lie he and Lenny had propagated since day one, in that Lenny wasn’t in this childhood story, and he’d liked them so much because they were something he could do by himself as an only child when he didn’t have anyone else to play with.
He tried to be careful not to actually lie, but also not outright reveal the deception. “Yeah, I've played LEGOs for as long as I can remember. Duplos at first, when I was really little - those are kind of like these, but a lot bigger so toddlers can handle them better, but regular LEGOs starting around kindergarten or so. Around five or six years old, that is,” he added, not sure of her familiarity with muggle public schools, so he erred on the side of explaining too much.
“My grandfather - he’s a muggle - got me my first set and I loved them so much, and most of my other hobbies were things like soccer and baseball and cub scouts and swing dancing, none of which have a whole lot of accessories once you have the basic gear - so the LEGOs became the go-to gift to get me for every birthday and Christmas gift, even from my magic relatives, who are all pretty muggle shopping savvy. That’s how I have so many.”
“What about you?” Cole asked curiously, hoping to get a solid reading on whether or not he needed to keep muggle translating for her without invasively asking what her blood status was.
Yarielis was familiar with both Duplo and Kindergarten, but understood the habitual need to translate. Juggling multiple different worlds had been a necessity for as long as the Crotalus could remember. It was freeing to be at Sonora, where at least there wasn't the worry of slipping up and mentioning something that was a secret. There was "only" the risk of judgement or confusion, which scared Yarielis almost as much as violating the Statute of Secrecy, but came with fewer legal consequences.
Cole rattled off an impressive list of hobbies, not too dissimilar from Yarielis' own, except for Scouts (which cost too much money) and swing dance (which received raised eyebrows of intrigue but no interruption).
"My dad's non-magical," Yarielis replied, "so, we did a lot of baseball together. Mama taught me to fly, but I didn't get to do it so much where we live. I had Legos but just a big box of whatever kinds of pieces." Yarielis fished out a few bits that seemed like they might be helpful for a ship - mosty browns, and plenty of flat pieces for a bottom.
"I liked dressing up and playing pretend the best though." Would Cole imagine princess dresses and tiaras from that? Yarielis decided he could do so if he wanted, to balance out the image of getting dirty on the baseball field, even if it was entirely opposite to the truth. It had always been ties and suspenders and suit jackets from Papa's closet. For a while, this had been quietly indulged, but a sharp line had always been drawn at the front door. You could play dress up, but you couldn't go out in a costume. It would get messy, it was just for play, not going to the store. And at a certain point, it hadn't been cute any more. It was childish, and there was homework to be done, and it had all been supposed to just stop. Yarielis had squirreled away a lesser used tie, and a pair of suspenders with a broken clasp that were on their way out. Except the fun of wearing those things, always conducted now in secret, was being ruined by puberty, in that they drew attention to the absolute last thing Yarielis wanted to be looking at or thinking about. The Crotalus hunched over a little, although it was almost impossible that Cole hadn't noticed by now. They played Quidditch together, which involved sitting up straight, and stretching, and reaching, meaning all three of the beater boys had to have noticed. Which was almost more gross and distubring than this happening in the first place. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if the others weren't all boys. Being the odd one out was hard and unfair, and lonely. Much like growing up had been...
"I had an imaginary brother. His name was Yaniel. It was better when he was around. I could say that he didn't want to play dolls, and then I wouldn't have to. Not that I always did. I played dolls with Mama sometimes, when she wanted. But I liked being Yaniel and doing boy things better. You're lucky to have Lenny." Yarielis very definitely would not have wanted Lenny specifically as a sibling, but a sibling in general would have made things so much easier.
Cole watched as Yarielis started sorting out some brown pieces, clearly for the hull of their boat. He pushed some into her pile as well, but also started collecting some white ones for the sails. As he worked and she talked, he learned she was a half-blood, too. More actually half than a quarter like Cole was, but similar experiences, he would guess. Especially when she mentioned the imaginary brother.
And then she said he was lucky to have Lenny and he visibly winced. "Yeah. Lenny." His tone was all wrong. Not at all the tone of a twin thinking fondly of childhood memories with his sibling. More regretful, even just a little bitter. He shook his head quickly and tried to fix it. "No, I mean, Lenny is great. He's everything I ever wanted in a brother."
He paused. Hesitated. Then blurted it out,"Exactly everything I ever wanted in a brother. And then there he was. A kid who looks enough like me to pass as siblings. A kid with my last name. I've wanted a sibling my whole life and then I get here and there's Lenny, and we're roommates and we just clicked and we've both hated being only children our whole lives so . . . of course we adopted each other. We're cousins of some variety, but the closest relative we have is my great-great-grandfather, but Lenny's from the California branch and I live in Boston, so we never met until the Professor Xavier showed us the way to the Teppenpaw Common room. I'm pretty sure everyone on staff knows we're not brothers because we have different birthdates and different parents listed on our emergency contact papers, but we decided right off we wanted everyone to believe we were twins, and it's worked pretty well so far. Only the other Teppenpaw first years know because they saw us meet each other. And now you. You don't have to lie for us, but please don't spread rumors that we're lying?"
"And Yaniel sounds cool," Cole added awkwardly, not wanting to have completely derailed the conversation with his confession, or overshadow what Yarielis had shared, because it seemed pretty significant. "He can play LEGOs with me, too. If he wants?" he asked cautiously, not sure how much Yaniel was an imaginary brother and how much he was, well, Yarielis, given *I liked being Yaniel and doing boy things better.* It wasn't quite the binary reversal of Lenny, but it was awfully similar and he wanted to be supportive.
Cole made the exact face that Yarielis always made on the inside when thinking about Lenny. That didn't make sense. They always seemed so close. Something wasn't right- and soon it started tumbling out. But far from being a confession that Yarielis wasn't the only one to find Lenny confusing and offputting and frustrating, it was a confession of a different kind.
Yarielis sat, wide eyed, just trying to process. It didn't help that what Cole was admitting to didn't come until more than halfway through the tidal wave of words. And then, just as the Crotalus was beginning to get a grip on it, Cole was already asking for promises on what to do with the information.
"I won't," Yarielis promised. That was easy enough to agree to. After all, who was there to tell? "I don't talk to many people outside of Quidditch. And not to be rude or anything, but I doubt Billy or Oz care what we do off the pitch."
So... There was no problem. Cole was happy, Yarielis would do as he had asked... He didn't want people to be told he was lying. Which was one interpretation of what he was doing... But before Yarielis could have many more thoughts, other than the initial sympathy that had been stirred by resonating with Cole's experience, and the directions he had given on how to respond, he switched the subject back to Yaniel.
Yarielis warmed a little, shown in a slight smile, as Yaniel was complimented, but it shut down quickly when Cole invited him to play.
"Kids our age don't play pretend," Yarielis said, without thinking. "Sorry, I didn't mean..." It hadn't been meant as anything to do with Cole, and what he was doing. "You and Lenny is different. He's not imaginary." Vividly so...
Did that make it fair? If Cole didn't want it to be lying, it was just a big game of make believe, and playing pretend and dressing up were things you had to grow out of.