so happy together {OPEN}

[GRACE HOLLADAY]

Grace Holladay was known for persistent optimism, always seeing the silver lining. To most of Baum, there was never a dark cloud in Grace's sky, and she was typically able to share some of her sun. Grace knew a lot of people thought of her this way, and it always added a little pink to her cheeks and sparkle to her eyes to know that people appreciated her basic existence. If Grace didn't help someone at least once a day, she didn't know what was going wrong in her life. In a way, Grace had brought the missionary group with her when she departed from her travelling parents. It added fulfillment and purpose to her life to make others happy, and Grace didn't feel right doing anything else. In fact, she usually had a hard time asking for help. It felt wrong to rely on others, because her whole personality craved to make others feel comfortable, not put them out of their way to help her.

Grace Holladay, though, was sad.

In her mind, the main reason was so trivial. It made her almost angry to feel so upset over something so typical. Nothing tragic had happened, no one had died. Grace was a sensitive girl, though. Teenagers didn't know when to stop, it seemed, and rumors these days could be especially venomous and mean-spirited. These rumors had befallen Grace's ears and settled in her heart, infecting the cavities around it. Grace stood no chance against the emotional attacks, and had spent two days moping about. It was like she was suffering a cold; Grace felt achy, her head hurt, and she was constantly sniffling and coughing. Grace wasn't under the influence of some virus, though. No, she had been felled by rumors of another girl in Jackson's life. It made sense to approach him right away and get the story straight, because while Grace trusted nearly everyone, she especially trusted Jackson. Nothing he told her would ever be a lie. Why didn't Grace go to him, then? She really didn't have an idea. Instead, she just let the rumors of some other girl, a girl that had known Jackson forever, rot her heart. To Grace, it felt like a huge weight was sitting on her chest, and she couldn't get it off. Grace needed help, but she couldn't ask.

Meandering in the courtyard, Grace found her way to a bench and collapsed on the cold wood, pulling her legs in so she could curl into a ball. The bite of the wind felt, in a way, good. For two days Grace had felt like she was only half-awake, and the goosebumps on her neck made her feel lively. As the wind whipped and whistled through her hair, Grace stared at people as they went about their daily business. Some were rushing back to dorm rooms, friends were chatting amicably in small groups, a few people were yelling angrily into phones. Worst of all were the happy couples dotted along the campus, holding hands and snuggling to keep warm. Grace pulled her legs closer in response, tucking her head in to avoid the sights around her. It didn't feel right to witness everyone else being happy when Grace was feeling so down. She didn't want to infect their days with her negativity.

Grace closed her eyes, letting the rumors roll about in her mind. "Cheater", "womanizer", and "that girl's really pretty, though" were some of Grace's favorites. It almost added to the insult whenever she heard the whispers of what the girl looked like. Grace had never been that concerned with makeup before, or doing anything to her hair other than spraying some anti-frizz solution on it. Now, though, these minimal steps made Grace feel inadequate. She knew Jackson was very attractive, and that there were a lot of girls that wanted him. Grace had never really felt bothered by it before, but now she was confused. What made her so special when there were all these pretty girls who knew how to apply eyeshadow and match layers that would basically fight for the chance to go on a date with Jackson? Nothing came to mind.

Perhaps Grace would have gone straight to Jackson if that was the only thing troubling her. Just recently, though, Grace had heard from her father that her mom's breast cancer was getting worse. Grace had faith, and prayed constantly for God to heal her mom, but she also knew there was only so much the Lord could do. There was hope, the doctors said, but it was always hard to predict what direction cancer patients would go in. All Grace wanted was to see her mother proudly walking in the purple "survivor" t-shirts at those Relay For Life events. The thought of making a luminary while other people got to hold their loved ones once again made Grace want to wither away to nothing.

So much on her delicate shoulders. Grace let all the sadness pile up, her muscles bunching into knots from the stress and grief of it all. A few moments later, the tears decided to silently wind down Grace's cheeks, her shoulders quivering.

notes: jackson can definitely step in but you know whoever feels like it~

[SILAS SCHMIDT]

When Silas looked back at the past couple of years, he wasn't sure that he liked what he saw. He didn't necessarily dislike it either, but mostly because he couldn't recognize himself.

He'd always been an impulsive, competitive guy. Hot-tempered and wild. But he couldn't remember being this malicious to people. He went out of his way to hurt people, and it made him feel good. He used to feel good when he made others laugh. He used to like it when people in the stands cheered him on, whether he be playing football or baseball or some other sport.

When he tried to pinpoint when he had stopped enjoying those things, Silas realized it was right after his dad passed away. After all, Matt Schmidt had been the person who told the jokes. Silas just re-told them and made everyone laugh, but his father never ratted him out. Matt was also the one who spent countless hours in the backyard with his boys, tossing around a football or a baseball. The things that Silas' father had passed on to him were now shoved in a box in the back of Silas' mind. He didn't want to share them. They were only for him and Dad.

And yet, it caused an ache. An ache so deep that it penetrated the very pit of his stomach and made him feel like he had been stabbed. His heart ached right along with it. Perhaps he had been stabbed to death in another life. The only way to alleviate some of the pain was to take it out on someone else. Someone undeserving.

Silas had actually gone to class today (don't ask how that happened, it just did) and he was about to leave campus and start for his new apartment. He strolled casually down the sidewalk, in no particular hurry, and almost walked past a blonde girl with her knees drawn up on a bench. She had no jacket and the day was far from warm. And damn. Didn't New York have some girls who weren't blonde? They were everywhere he turned.

Silas stopped and bent over, trying to see who it was. He vaguely recognized her (maybe they had a class together?) but he forgot her name. Startled to find her in tears, he pulled back, repulsed. Silas wasn't big on tears. Having two older brothers did something to a kid. But the exception was when his dad died. But even then he never shed tears in front of anyone but Tyler.

Pulling his coat tighter around his shoulders, his lips curled into a sneer.

"Since you're probably crying over nothing, want to do it somewhere that other people can't see it? It's embarrassing."

The Outfit Grace Gets To Cry On

[GRACE HOLLADAY]

To Grace, there really wasn't such a thing as "strangers". Everyone was connected somehow, and when you had spent your whole life travelling the world, you got to know a lot of people. Essentially, Grace didn't have that much of a problem sharing how she felt with near strangers and made friends easily because of it. Just then, though, Grace realized how exposed and vulnerable she was. Unable to stop the tears, though, Grace continued to sniffle, angrily wiping at her eyes to make the offenders go away. How was she supposed to help others when she herself was down in the dumps? And Jackson would be able to immediately tell that something was up. Grace was torn, though. Maybe Jackson noticing Grace was so upset would be a good thing. She really didn't know how else to approach the subject of those malicious rumors.

Grace realized someone was standing over her, and she slowly looked up to see an older student staring down at her with an awful sneer on his face. Immediately, Grace recoiled back in shock. His face seemed to speak a thousand words like a picture, and Grace was hurt by each and every one of them.

"It's embarrassing."

Grace clutched at a lock of her curly hair, wanting to crawl under a rock for a week. He was right. Being out in the courtyard by herself, crying, was extremely embarrassing. Grace wondered what had even brought her out. Did she want to publicly roast herself? That was the only thing correct that he said, though. Grace couldn't help herself from feeling mad at this guy. "Crying over nothing". What made him say something like that? That was something Grace had always marveled over. How were some people just so...nasty? Cruel?

"I'm not crying over nothing." Grace sniffled, rubbing her fingers under her eyes to catch some strays. This was not a time to fall back into a blubbering mess. Besides, Grace felt the need to defend herself. Even though she knew this guy probably didn't want to hear one lick of it, Grace began to spill her guts, like word vomit. "My mother could die, my boyfriend might be--" Grace's voice caught in her throat. She could barely choke out the word "cheating.". It was too hard.

[SILAS SCHMIDT]

The girl looked up at him and her mouth dropped open in a kind of hurt surprise. She tugged on her hair nervously. Damn, girls like this made him want to step in front of a bus. She was probably one of those dumb blondes, one of those girls who wore lots of high heels and make-up. Although there was a lack of mascara streaking her face. She was also probably one of those overly clingy girlfriends, like one who giggled incessantly and had to be with their boyfriend 24/7. She was one of those who thought she could change him. That he loved her.

And her tears over the fact that a guy might be cheating confirmed that.

"Well, of course he's cheating," Silas's tone wasn't very comforting. Glancing at her, he shrugged, "I have no clue who this boy toy of yours is, but if you're hearing about it, it's probably true. He's a guy. And no matter how much you've convinced yourself that he loves you or you love him or however hot you think he is, he's always gonna be a guy."

Then Silas stopped. His brain, slow as it was at times when emotions were needed, had finally registered what else she had said. Her mom could die? Why? From what? When? Suddenly, his chest ached horribly, and he couldn't look at her. Inside him there was this emotion that just drained him. He couldn't even bring himself to come up with another insult.

Slowly, Silas sat beside her on the bench. He felt hot and his eyes stung in the most peculiar way. He quickly got that under control, and pulled off his jacket. He still couldn't look at her face, but the rest of her looked kind of cold, and he draped his coat over her slim shoulders.

"I um.." Damn, he was bad at this emotion thing, "I'm sorry about your mom. What's wrong with her?"

Immediately after asking the question, Silas didn't want to know the answer. It brought back too much of the feelings from right after his dad died. People asking him to call if he needed anything, or that they would always be there for him to talk to. But no one ever meant it. Not for long, anyway. And then there were those people who had never had a family member die. "I'm sorry for your loss," they would always say. Loss? They didn't know what loss was. It wasn't like losing your keys or your cash or even like losing a dog. It was someone you loved. And they were gone. Not coming back.

Silas knew better than to say those things now. He glanced up at this girl, and her name came back to him.

"You're Grace, right? I'm Silas Schmidt."

[GRACE HOLLADAY]

""Well, of course he's cheating,"

Grace couldn't help the hearty sob that came out over that line. She buried her face in her hands, letting her shoulders shake even more as this mean, awful...truthful guy continued to talk. And even though the lines "no matter how much you think you love him" left his mouth, Grace couldn't help the words that came pouring out of her mouth. "We've been best friends for -hic- two years! We're -hic- like soulmates!" Grace wailed, not even bothering to wipe at her eyes now. It wasn't like she had makeup smudging and running everywhere. Sniffling, Grace looked at the guy with a pleading look. Her eyes spoke volumes: please tell me my boyfriend is faithful. Although lying was a sin, Grace just wanted to roll around in the sweet nothings and pretend to be blissfully ignorant. It would feel so much better than this. Anything would be better than this.

Grace watched the change in her visitor's physique: the way his face drooped and how he seemed resigned to something sad and horrible. Something that she had said stuck, but in a bad way. Instantly, Grace just wanted to make him feel better. Forget the tears still running fresh down her face, Grace lived to put others above herself.

Apparently, though, this guy must have been that kind of person? Grace was a little confused, but extremely grateful, as she felt the warmth and heat of his jacket wrap around her small frame. She muttered a quiet thank you, voice slightly hoarse from crying. He wanted to know about her mom, though, and Grace had to draw in a deep breath the settle the shaking that had started back up. "My mum has cancer. She told me just recently, but it's been tearing her down for a while now." Grace looked ahead at nothing in particular, not wanting to make eye contact, because she would break down again if she did. "The doctors say she doesn't have much longer, and they don't know if she can handle a flight to New York." Grace's slight Scottish lilt was growing stronger as her emotions went further and further south.

Silas, that was his name. Grace didn't think she'd heard it before, but it was familiar at the same time. She'd probably heard it in a passing conversation before; after all, Baum was a boarding school. After a while, you hear something about everyone. "Yes. Grace Holl-" Grace's voice broke off as she started off her last name. As soon as she began to say it, her mind immediately jumped to "Hollie", a nickname she fully recognized and responded to. Shaking her head, Grace practically spat out "Holladay." Pulling Silas's jacket around herself, Grace looked at him through wet eyes. "Why do you care enough to ask after telling me there's no -hic- way my boyfriend isn't cheating on me?" It did strike Grace as a little...backwards, to say the least.