Routine ~ 2

TESS

The school yard was packed—kids darting between stalls, handmade bunting fluttering from fences, and parents doing their best not to trip over glittery art projects or spill weak lemonade. The air smelled like popcorn and poster paint. Tess arrived late, bag slung over her arm, eyes squinting against the late afternoon sun as she scanned the crowd.

Her heels clicked across the concrete as she weaved past paper mâché volcanoes and laminated timetables. A handmade sign read: CEREAL BOX ROBOTS! Just underneath, she spotted him—Cook, looking very out of place in the school yard, work boots still dusty, shirt rolled up at the sleeves, squinting at a cluster of boxy robot sculptures like they might attack him.

"Hey," she called, sidling up beside him, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "You get lost in the glitter?"

He smirked, not looking at her. "Couldn't tell which one was Lewis's. They all look like they've been through a war."

"That's the charm," she said, peering at the mess of cereal boxes and pipe cleaners. "This one's his." She tapped the robot with one bent arm and two googly eyes glued too far apart. "Spent all weekend finishing it off."

Cook laughed,  "Makes sense."

Before Tess could answer, a small blur ran up to them. Lewis, cheeks flushed, dragging along a tiny, neat-looking boy in a navy jumper.

"Mum!" he said breathlessly. "Look, it's Dion."

"Hi Dion," Tess smiled, crouching slightly. "Nice to see you again."

The boy grinned, folding his hands politely in front of him. "Hi Lewis's mum. Hello Lewis's dad. Nice to meet you."

Cook blinked. "Uh—"

Tess shot him a look and tried not to laugh.

"Nice to meet you too, mate," Cook said, recovering fast. He gave Dion a slight nod like he was meeting a fellow crew member.

"Can we have money for lemonade?" Lewis begged, bouncing a little. "It's only a few pounds and we want to get the green one that tastes like apples but isn't."

"That's not suspicious at all," Tess muttered, digging into her bag.

She handed over a note. "Bring me back change."

"We won't," Dion said solemnly, and off they ran.

Cook watched them go. "That one's gonna be a politician."

They leaned against the table, elbows just barely brushing. The lull between stalls buzzed with overlapping conversations and crackly speakers announcing things like "Sponge Throwing at Mr. Clements in five minutes!" A group of kids were tuning instruments nearby. Cook groaned as the first off-key notes of "Yellow" by Coldplay screeched from the speakers.

"Oh no," he muttered. "No, no no— I hate Coldplay"

Tess glanced at him, amused. "Still keeping that up?"

"Still? Thought you knew me Tess." He pulled a face like he was being tortured. "People wonder why everyone's sad and shit—'cause they're all listening to blokes whisper about bleeding hearts over piano chords. It's bleak."

"You're bleak," Tess teased.

He looked like he was about to argue but a woman appeared at Tess's elbow.

"Hi, are you Lewis's mum?" she asked, smiling.

Tess straightened. "Yeah, that's me."

"I'm Dion's mum. Lewis was over at ours the other week, but you would've met my partner Lena." She smiled. "I'm Renae."

"Oh, I've heard all about Dion," Tess beamed, "Their inseparable tonight,"

"He's always going on about Lewis's ideas," Renae said. "Apparently they're making a robot army together?"

Tess laughed. "Sounds about right.".

As Renae chattered on about the sugar levels in the lemonades, Cook's phone suddenly rang loudly in his pocket. He fumbled to silence it.

"Sorry—ignore that," he muttered.

Renae grinned. "Busy man."

Then, offhandedly: "Are you Tess's partner? Husband?"

Tess choked on air. "Oh, no. No god no."

Cook nodded along, unhelpfully.

Renae laughed. "Right, sorry! Just assumed. How stupid of me." Then someone approached with a vibrant cupcake in hand. A younger woman, around Tess and Cook's age. She handed it to Renae, then looked at them—Cook especially—with a smile that stuck.

"Got you the least grim looking one," She said, handing over the cupcake

"Cheers," Renae said. "Oh right! This is my sister, Gemma,"

Tess offered a polite hello and Cook an awkward smile.

They kept chatting. Tess pretended not to notice the way Gemma leaned slightly toward Cook, asking what he did, what he liked, smiling at his gruff replies. Renae carried on with her usual flurry of chatter, talking fast and full of fondness for the kids.

Before long, Lewis and Dion reappeared, wild-eyed with sugar and already halfway through the lurid green drinks. Cook excused himself to get food. Gemma offered to join, and Tess's stomach twisted.

For a while, Tess was caught up again—teachers stopping to say hello, Lewis dragging her to the games stall. By the time the sky started dimming and parents were filtering out, Lewis was yawning and rubbing his eyes.

"Where's Dad?" he mumbled.

Tess scanned the crowd, then spotted Cook near the exit, holding a plastic food tray and wiping his hands on his jeans.

They walked over slowly. Lewis bent down to fix his laces. Cook caught Tess staring.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said. "You've got sauce on your shirt."

He looked down, scowling. "Shit. I just washed it."

She raised an eyebrow. "Finally figured out the new machine then?"

A few weeks ago Cook had gotten a washing machine but he was completely clueless. Had to call Tess for help.

He shot her a look. "Piss off."

She grinned.

Lewis popped up between them. "Finished!"

He skipped ahead. Cook and Tess followed behind at a slower pace.

"The little lad's nice," Cook said, nodding at Dion across the schoolyard.

"Yeah, he's a good kid. I think he keeps Lewis from launching into space."

They walked a few more paces.

"His mum's nice too," Tess added

"Yeah." Cook replied, "She's got... thoughts. Loads of 'em. She's like Panda on triple espresso and helium."

Tess snorted "God, Cook."

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "And her sister? Man. Felt like I aged five years keeping up with that conversation. Haven't socialised like that in — fuck knows."

"She fancies you," Tess said smugly, "Non-stop flirting."

"Fuck off," Cook laughed, visibly offended, "She did not."

"She was!" Tess insisted. "Kept laughing at everything you said—even when you weren't being funny."

"I'm always funny," Cook muttered.

"Thats a stretch."

"And she was practically attached to your arm" Tess coughed, throwing her hand up, "Which is fine I'm merely observing"

Cook smirked, quieter now. "Nah didn't notice. Wasn't really lookin' at her."

Tess's smile faltered, caught off guard for a second. "Right."

Cook smirked. "Jealous, are ya?"

Tess rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her grin. "Of Dion's aunt? Please."

He leaned in, still playful—but there was something softer in his voice."Well you were the only one who didn't flirt with me tonight. Starting to feel left out."

Tess's expression flickered. "You really say that like it doesn't mean anything."

Cook shrugged, quieter now. "Maybe 'cause I don't know if I'm allowed to mean it."

Tess looked at him for a second too long, then looked away. 

"Cook..." She said softly, a bit hesitant, like a warning.

He nodded once, almost like he was admitting something. "I know."

They neared the corner where they'd have to split off. The conversation softened.

"You alright though?" he asked.

She looked up at him. "Yeah. Just tired. But today was...nice. Lewis seemed happy."

He nodded. "Yeah. He's a good'un."

There was a pause. One of those full, buzzing ones.

Cook scratched the back of his neck. "I'll text you. Or see you tomorrow or somethin'."

"Yeah."

Lewis had run ahead but was now crouched poking at something on the pavement.

They didn't say goodbye, just sort of stood there a second longer before drifting away, like neither one of them wanted to make the move that might change it all.

COOK

The place looked about the same as it always did: cluttered, warm, lived-in. Bottles lined the counter like trophies. The three of them — Cook, Freddie, and JJ — were spread out around the room, music low, a game on mute in the background that none of them were really watching.

It had been a while since Cook had laughed like that. Not just a half-arsed chuckle or one of those hollow "I'm fine" smirks he threw around at work—but real laughter. JJ had just finished re-enacting how a rogue toddler had mugged him for his ice cream in the middle of a shopping centre.

"I swear she had intent," JJ muttered. "Looked me in the eye and lunged."

"You got mugged by a baby, mate," Freddie cackled. "You lost to a literal baby."

"I relented, actually."

"Retreated with honour," Cook added, snorting into his drink.

Cook grinned, chest warm from both the whiskey and the company. He hadn't drunk like this in a while — not properly. Not like this, with his best friends, the air thick with smoke and nostalgia.

They'd been talking shit for hours. Old times. Dumb stuff. About Lewis, too — Cook had been bragging a bit. About his drawings. His robot phase. Cook admitted he didn't understand half of what Lewis said anymore. "Proper little professor," he'd muttered, half proud, half baffled.

His phone buzzed, face down on the couch arm. Cook reached lazily for it, squinting at the screen.

Tess had sent him some photos from the market the other day. His thumb hovered over the photo, like part of him wasn't ready to swipe away. Lewis, arms flung up, grinning so wide it made Cook's chest ache. It was stupid, really. Just a picture. But it made everything feel... closer. Tess, too. Like they were something. Or had been. Or might be.

Cook stared at them for a second longer than he meant to. Freddie leaned in, smirking at Cook. "Aww, look at you. Big softie. Might cry."

"Shut up," Cook muttered, but there was no bite in it.

"That his robot?"

Cook just nodded, tossing the phone back onto the couch like it'd burned him.

He didn't want to talk about it. Not really. But the silence that followed made it worse. JJ was watching him—thoughtful, like he already knew where Cook's head had gone.

Freddie raised an eyebrow. "So... what, all three of you went to that market together?"

"Mm." Cook swirled the drink in his hand.

There was a small pause before JJ spoke. "So what's going on between you two?"

Cook stilled. "What?"

JJ shrugged. "Just... you've been weird lately. And she's been, I don't know, Tessier. Which usually means something's going on."

Cook exhaled through his nose, slouching further into the couch. The drink was catching up now — warming his ribs, making things looser. Softer.

He looked at the phone again.

"She looked... pissed the other day," he said slowly. "At the market. Some girl was flirtin' with me — didn't even notice until after. Tess went all funny."

"Did you flirt back?"

"No! I was just... I dunno, being polite or whatever. Chatting. I wasn't even into it, swear down. But Tess... she got all weird. Like I'd done something bad again.

"I don't think that's what she meant, Cook." JJ muttered

Freddie frowned. "Did you talk to her about it?"

"What am I meant to say? 'Sorry someone else likes me, didn't mean to exist wrong'?"

Freddie sipped his beer. "You don't think maybe... I don't know, she just cares?"

Cook groaned. "Last year she was dating that wanker Ben. That was alright apparently. But if I so much as talk to someone else..."

Freddie leaned forward, "Do you want to talk to someone else?"

Cook looked at him like he was mad. "Don't be daft."

"Well then." Freddie raised his eyebrows like he'd won an argument.

"It's not about that, Freds. It's just..."

They were quiet for a beat. The TV flickered in the background.

"Feels like," Cook started, then stopped. Scratched the side of his jaw. "Feels like... things've been good lately. Like, really good. Job's alright. Lewis is more than alright. Even Tess — we're, like, okay. Not fightin' every week. She's toleratin' me more and more. I've been... I don't know. Tryin'."

Freddie watched him. "You have."

Cook swallowed. "But every time it starts to feel normal—like we could maybe be something again—I feel her pulling back. Like she's just waiting for me to fuck it all up."

"She's probably scared, Cook."

He rubbed a hand over his face, tired all of a sudden. "And she's not wrong to be, is she? I've done enough."

"But I wouldn't now. I wouldn't. I don't think she could take it if I did... I don't think I could."

Freddie exchanged a glance with JJ.

"He still loves her," Freddie said softly.

JJ didn't even blink "Well yes, I thought that was quite obvious, Freds."

Cook gave a soft, breathy laugh, but there was no real humour in it. "Yeah. Well. Love don't mean you're not a danger to it."

And then he tipped the bottle back again.