Gray stared across the cafeteria at the line. Jarrod talked animatedly to Wynn who was in line for a sandwich. The latter looked at him, face drawn in disbelief. He shook his head then continued through the line to pay.
Annoyed, he watched as they walked across the barely full room. Wynn had been sitting with them since Gray had told the school they were dating. Everyone had believed them even though Wynn didn't really act like it.
"How can you like Messi when you're not even Argentinian?" Jarrod asked incredulously.
"How can you like Christiano Ronaldo if you're not Portuguese?" Wynn shot back. "It's everyone's personal opinion. Just how you like rock music and I like classical."
Nathan caught Gray's gaze as they listened to theirbanter. He had the question written all over his face. Since when did they become close? Gray shrugged. He didn't know either. He hadn't known either. He hadn't seen Jarrod in the couple of days since the winery. Since he'd been blamed for Christian's death.
Wynn hadn't seen them too much either, spending most of his time sketching random scenes. They hadn't gotten too close to him because he seemed to be in his own little world and seemed to want some space. He hadn't seemed too annoyed about being implicated though. Most would be angry, but Wynn had turned in on himself.
At least they thought he had. Now it seemed he'd been talking to Jarrod, the snake who'd turned them in. He seemed at ease with him. No anger, no judgement and no resentment.
Jarrod came up short when Wynn sat down beside Gray. The blond headed boy pushed a drink to the newcomer, nodding his thanks. They stared at each other for a long time until Wynn elbowed Gray in the ribs.
"I'll talk to you later, Wynn," he said. He turned on his heel and disappeared.
Wynn ignored the looks he was given, opting to feed his grumbly belly. He knew this would come, but he didn't care. No one could tell him who he could and couldn't talk to. They may be magically inclined, but he wasn't going to be bullied into making friends or ignoring others.
"So who's going to say it?" he asked. He looked up and into the other two boys' eyes. "Who's going to call me an idiot for talking to him? Hmm? Go ahead."
Nathan scratched his head. "It's not that. You were there when he said you killed Christian."
Wynn nodded. "You're right. I was, but I also know that I didn't do it. Gray knows I didn't do it so we're at square one. Speaking of which, have you told the others about the decision you made?"
With that, he changed the trajectory of the conversation. If they wanted to discuss important events, Gray's decision was more important than who Wynn associated with.
"No, he's right," Nathan said. He leaned his hand on his palm. "You made a decision without us. Those of us who were there understand, but will the others? You'll have to tell them before we run out of time."
Gray rubbed his eyes as he sighed. He wasn't used to Wynn's sudden ability to talk back. He'd never been a pushover, but he had let them handle their own affairs. Now that he was part of what could only be described as conspiracy, he was getting bolder.
He'd made it clear. He was leaving at the end of the year. He wouldn't have to deal with what was left. But he'd still have a part of him here. Maybe he didn't want to leave a bad memory.
"I don't want to hurt them," he said.
Wynn sighed. "If you don't, you'll hurt them more. Take it from me."
Nathan leaned on the table, curiosity written all over it. "Is that what your dad did?"
"He said he was going to America for a potential job. If he did well, he'd call. He never called. He showed up one weekend and told us all to pack up. We weren't prepared. My mom left half of their wedding gifts at our house in Italy." He looked at Gray. "No matter what, you have to be honest about this. If you're not, you're just going to hurt them."
Gray saw the devastation in Wynn's eyes as he remembered the moment he was asked to leave his home. Was that the same feeling the kids would know if he did this without their knowledge?
The bell rang, and they went their separate ways to their classes. Wynn disappeared in the crowds of students as Nathan and Gray watched. But the former watched the latter for a moment.
"You know how he's feeling, don't you?" he asked.
Gray nodded. "He's not sure how to tell me, but he's seen the spark between him and Jarrod. I think the asshole is changing because of that kid."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'll wait until he tells me. Until then, we have to find out who killed Christian."
They too went their separate ways, having different classes this time. Both knew what was in store for them once they opened up about everything, but they weren't sure what would happen.
~~~~~~
Wynn stood in the library after school for a very long time. He was scared. For the first time in a long time -since he came out really - he was unsure what would happen.
He stared at the pages before him. He'd brough them earily and tucked them away in one spot of the library where no one would find them. He didn't want anyone to see Gray's worst day of his life. They'd undoubtedly heard about it, but Wynn doubted they'd seen it.
He heard the door to the library close. He didn't bother turning around. He knew who was by the footfalls. He stepped aside so Gray could see why he'd called him.
Wynn couldn't watch his face as he looked at the paintings. He didn't have to. He could feel the raw emotions batting at him from across the table.
He was staring at the table when he was wheeled around and slammed into the nearest shelf. His back barked in pain as the air burst from his lungs. He looked up, trying to make sense of what was going on.
Tears. Gray was crying. They rolled down his cheeks, making clear tracks on his slowly swelling cheeks. Wynn made himself as small as he could.
"Who told you?" he demanded. Wynn lowered his gaze. "Who told you!"
"No one. I saw it in a dream, the same as the first set," the artist said. His mouth worked by Gray didn't say anything more. "Gray, this is just like Christian's pictures and the ones I didn earlier. I saw it all; the road, the car, your parents, you! I saw it all. I can paint the rest of them if that's what you need to believe in me."
Gray let him go, stepping back until he leaned against the table. He scrubbed his hands over his face until it was red and even puffier. Then he turned to look at the pictures. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed back the emotions that threatened to consume him.
"I hoped to never relive that night," he whispered. He touched the picture where he'd been crying that night. "Now all of it is here."
Wynn rounded the table and sat in a chair. "You don't have to tell me. But… I don't think it's a coincidence these are coming out now."
"Normally I would agree to disagree, but you've proven to know what happens." He wiped his nose with one hand as the other touched each picture. He frowned at the sixth one. "What's this? It has nothing to do with this et."
Gray pulled it out and looked at it. Wynn looked over the table, unsure which one he'd found. It was a white circle with red and gold in the cneter. The white almost looked as if it were swirling, but looking at it closer, it was smoke.
"I saw it in my head while daydreaming," Wynn admitted. "I have no idea where it came from."
The Keeper knew what it was and where it came from. What he didn't know whas how Wynn came to see it in his mind's eye.
"'Find the Key, and all will be known,'" he muttered.
Wynn frowned and looked at him. "How do you know that?"
It was Gray's turn to frown. "It's an old prophecy. Wait. Do you know it?"
He watched him go to his bag and pull out his ever-present sketch pad. He flipped to the front of the well-used books until he found what he was looking for. Then he handed it to Gray.
On the page was a lock and key, both decorated with what Gray could only describe as dragon scales. Below it was written the poem they had all grown up reciting.
'Find the Key, and all will be known; Mend the pieces, and the lock will be shown; then shall we return home.'
Wynn nodded. "Yeah, that's it. Don't ask me where I've heard it. I don't remember, but it popped in my head several hours before those did."
Gray looked at the pictures again then at the one in his hand. If he didn't know before, Wynn asthe Key. He had to be. He was painting and drawing things he had no business knowing, things that had happened before he arrived.
'Find the Key, and all will be known.' They found Wynn, the Key, and now secrets were becoming known. Now they needed to find the Lock. But he had no idea what to look for. He'd merely touched Wynn and had figured it out. Now he had to figure out who the Lock was.
He looked at Wynn. The artist was looking at his sketchbook intently. Gray realized he'd drawn who the Lock was as well. It was clear as day when he paid attention.
"Wynn, next time you see any scenes, tell me when you've finished them," he advised.
Wynn packed up his books. "Only if you tell the others." Gray made a face. "You have to tell them anyway."
"Alright. Deal. I'll tell them tomorrow, but you have to be there."
The other boy nodded. "Alright. I will."
Gray gathered the paintings and tucked them in the folder. He waited for Wynn to finish up then led him out of the library. The rest of the school was dark as they walked out of the building.
Rainy nights were always different for him. Sometimes he could manage his survivor's guilt. Other times he was a blubbering mess. Tonight, Gray wasn't sure what he was feeling. His past had come back without anyone digging it up. It had fallen into his lap.
He tucked Wynn in the passenger seat and rounded to the other side. He may not understand why all this was like it was. But he knew one thing for sure.
Jarrod Wainscott was the Lock, and he was destined to do some great with the Key.