quixotic. ↣ d.h.

xxiii: sunflowers

everything was warm and lovely. the air surrounding them, the colors on the walls, the scent of the lit candles that sat on a tiny table beside the door. it was welcoming, and comfortable; how could zoe be anything but happy here?

"don't pay much mind to them, alright?"

dan nodded, eyes scanning the pictures on the wall leading up the stairs. they looked like the ideal family, seated in a park with a fluffy dog dashing between their legs. the pictures were professionally taken, their faces washed in just the right amount of honey-colored sunlight. they were all smiling wide. zoe couldn't have been more than twelve at the time, but her evergreen eyes already harbored that far-away look that dan had come to know well. he always wondered where she was in her head.

"zoe?" a pair of black boots appeared on the carpeted steps. "is that you?"

"yeah. and, um-"

"oh. who is this?"

dan reached out his uninjured hand to the woman in front of him. she was tall, blonde hair pulled into a ponytail. a laundry basket rested on one of her hips, gripped with bright pink nails. "hi, i'm, uh, dan."

her smile was every bit as warm as the rest of her home. if she recognized him as one of the howells, her face didn't show it. she grabbed his hand in hers and shook it enthusiastically. "hello, dan! i'm mary." she turned to zoe. "you didn't tell me you were having anyone over, sweetie."

"it wasn't planned," zoe deadpanned.

"well, i'll be in the kitchen if you need me! make sure your friend feels at home." she flashed them one last smile and sauntered towards the doorway at the end of the hall.

"come on," zoe said.

dan followed her up the steps. he locked eyes with the younger version of her as he passed; her empty eyes begged him to take her far, far away.

she led them past two rooms with painted white doors, both closed, and stopped at the third. the door squeaked when she opened it.

"go ahead." she gestured vaguely in the direction of the room before turning. "i'm going to find some bandages."

dan walked through the doorway; her room was so quiet, he felt the need to hold his breath so as not to disturb the silence.

there were words everywhere. stacks of books neatly lined a dark wall, their covers stained with chalk dust. the entire wall behind her desk was a chalkboard. it was filled with words, long and short, mostly ones that dan had never heard before. a vase of dried-out sunflowers sat on a bench by the open window; a chilly breeze ruffled their brittle leaves. a few posters were taped to the grey walls behind her bed, all from obscure indie bands with strange names.

dan sat down carefully on the window seat and looked out at the street below. zoe lived in a prettier part of the neighborhood. the sidewalks there were crack-free and the windows clean. he brushed his hand across the vintage flower-print fabric of the seat; it was soft. everything here was soft.

"i brought some antibacterial cream as well." zoe approached his side, hands clutching a variety of band-aids.

"it's just one little cut, you know." dan grinned.

zoe sat next to him and reached for his arm. dan eyed her hand warily.

"dan," she urged. "come on."

he moved his arm towards her and took a breath. with gentle touches, she slid the sleeve up onto his wrist and touched the cut. dan winced.

"sorry. does it hurt?"

"a bit. not nearly as bad as it did at first."

zoe smeared the thick cream into his skin and unwrapped a few bandages. the sour smell of medicine filled the air. she hesitated, wondering if now would be an okay time to ask him once more what had happened. she didn't get a chance, though.

"glass bottle," dan mumbled. he kept his eyes on the street below. "broken glass bottle."

zoe bit her lip. she knew the answer to the question before she asked it.

"yours?"

dan shook his head numbly. he was quiet for a long minute.

"my dad was drunk. like usual. i can't remember the last time he was sober. my parents, they fight a lot. but never as violent as that night. they started throwing things, and i heard my mom scream, so i went downstairs to check on her. he grabbed the broken beer bottle off the floor and swung. i'm not sure he meant to hit me; he looked pretty surprised when the blood starting dripping on the floor."

"that doesn't make it okay," zoe said angrily.

dan shrugged, as if it were all commonplace. he still would not look her in the eye.

zoe pressed the large cloth bandages onto his hand and smoothed the flaps down with light touches. she leaned back against the icy window and pulled her knees up, tucking them under her chin. there was only one thing she could do to help. no matter how much she loathed having someone in the plastic dollhouse she lived in, she knew that she had to keep dan away from his house as much as she could.

his face was hopeful; he believed that what had occurred would be a one-time thing. zoe knew better. the first drag of something was only the beginning. a crucial page had been turned, and mr. howell would be far less hesitant now to lay a hand on his son.

"would you like to stay for dinner?"

dan turned his head in surprise. "really?" he tried to hide it, but zoe heard the excitement lacing his voice.

she nodded.

"i'd love to."