Boys Will Be Boys (v.2)

chapter twenty-eight - thaw

chapter twenty-eight — thaw

THE DAYS PASSED LIKE NOTHING HAD HAPPENED. I still saw Lukas at school, our conversations limited to civil, mindless greetings, and quick mentions of changes in the practice schedule. Nobody seemed to have time to hang out in the passing week, the seniors faced upcoming college deadlines and everyone else was too unused to me to make an attempt. I was being ignored. And for once I understood, and I wished I could ignore myself the same way, peel away a layer of myself so all the stuff no one liked could be flushed down the drain.

I didn't feel like making an attempt either. I didn't feel like doing anything much. Lazy. I guessed that's what it was, I'm being lazy.

"Kieran, Keisha's on the line!"

"Right," I took the cellphone from Mum, smiling at her as best I could before trying to remember what the weather was like, "Hello, Ms. Keisha, how are you?"

"I'm well, Kieran, how are you?"

"I'm doing good, but it's too cold outside," I inhaled slowly, eyes blinking over the replaying NBA game on the television, "I'm watching a basketball game."

"Hmm, of course, you are."

We both laughed, dry and short. Lazy? Is that what this feeling was?

"I have to go—" I started, pausing when a shot was blocked on the three-point line. If only I had height like that.

Lukas was tall, but even he would be considered average, or even short maybe, in the NBA. What hope do I have? I could dribble and shoot, but I couldn't make myself tall. I can't make myself something I'm not, even if it meant losing something I thought I could always rely on.

"—finish watching the game?" Ms. Keisha guessed, chuckling at the end.

"Yeah." No, not lazy.

"Alright, goodbye Kieran," Goodbye again. "Tell your Mom I'll see her soon."

Lonely.

Okay. The phone went silent at the end of the call and I put it on the table next to me. Mum clattered around the kitchen, pouring herself a mug of coffee so she could get a nice start to her day. Winter recess had just begun for the both of us, but the break wasn't passing the way I thought it would. Basketball practice was still on, and the schoolwork I had for the break was still sitting pretty in my backpack, untouched, but it didn't feel like a break. It didn't feel fun.

"Kieran, your phone's been buzzing, dear."

I looked up, guiltily taking the half-charged device from Mum's hand and swapping it for hers. She smiled, sitting down next to me and passing me a mug of hot chocolate, the marshmallows arranged in what was supposed to be a smile but had ended up looking like a lima bean.

"Your father called me yesterday—" Mum spoke into her hand, her lips burnt as guilt churned in my stomach. He called her? "—he thinks you haven't been receiving his calls."

I've been receiving them and I've been ignoring them.

"Ms. Keisha says she'll see you soon," I mumbled into the rim of the cup, leaning forward to rest it on my knees because I had spilled too many drinks on this same seat over the years.

"Kieran."

My eyes snapped up, an apology ready even though I wasn't too sure what I was apologizing about. It had been a while since Mum had said my name like that: the way she'd said it when I'd come home from a fight, or skipped taking my medication in the morning. Fionnuala usually made it better, but the slacker was actually out, doing work, so Mum's disappointment hit me, concentrated like the smelly apple cider vinegar in the fridge.