Moose and Goose

Chapter Seventy-three

Trees tower around Judith like a mob watching as she walks past them. Twigs and leaves crunch under her boots, and she scans the foggy terrain in search of her destination. She reaches a bench with leaning rails and chipped ivy green paint, overlooking large cabins on the other end of the lake.

She stops behind it, staring at Xavius, reading a girthy paperback novel. She clears her throat, and he flinches toward her, clutching the book in his hands. His thumbs press a crease against the pages.

"What're you doing here? Did Jerome send you," he stammers over his questions, and she shakes her head. "Then what're you doing here?"

"I used to come out here when I was eighteen." She steps around the bench and examines the fish swimming in the clear water before them. "Figured I'd spend a moment here and think."

"Oh, well, I'm not supposed to be out here, so don't tell anyone." He turns forward. She chuckles with her mouth closed, air whistling from her nose, but when she sits beside him and notices his bookbag under him, her smile leaves her face.

"You playing hooky," she asks, and they look at each other.

"Yeah, but who cares? Not like it'll matter in ten years when, as my mom puts it, I'll be flipping burgers at McDonald's for a quarter an hour." He shifts his jaw behind his closed mouth, and she tucks her hair behind her ears, lifting her head to watch the sun slowly rise behind the houses.

"How old are you, X," she asks without looking at him.

"I'm eighteen." She chuckles dryly at his answer, and her response grasps his attention. "What?"

"When I was your age, I had a shit ton of wishes, and they were stolen from me. Wanna know how?" He nods, and she takes a deep breath. "Well, I spent that year melancholic at home and was sent to a hospital, then an Asylum, and by the time I got back, my Grandma died on my birthday, so that was more time away from – everything."

"I'm sorry." His soft apology filled with pity for her. She purses her lips and shakes her head.

"It's okay. I learned a lot from that experience, and as long as I'm still breathing, I wanna learn more about everything. What do you wanna be – career-wise," she asks, and he takes a sharp breath, forcing it out with a straighter posture.

"I don't even know anymore. At one point, I liked basketball and wanted to be the first in the Pee Dee to be on TV, and then I liked playing guitar and wanted to be like Bootsy Collins. Now – I don't fucking know if I wanna wake up the next day to see what I enjoy next." Judith bears confusion on her face, and he continues shifting his jaw.

"Hey." She sits her hand on his, and when they lock eyes, she gulps her sympathy at the emptiness in his. "I know it's hard. Believe me, not every day is gravy for me, but you gotta find meaning in your life. It's okay to not know what you wanna do, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"You're not a bitch." Judith looks to her left, right, then at him. "Manny and Khalíd called you a bitch when you left yesterday, but you're not; You're cool."

"Well – thank you," she says with a questioning tone, and he nods, grinning at the pages in front of him. She takes her hand off his and interlocks her fingers on her cargo shorts. Staring at them, she asks, "Did Jerome agree with them?"

"No." He chuckles almost sarcastically. "Well, he hardly speaks to me or around me, so I don't really know how he feels, but judging by the way he's constantly around you, I think he thinks you're out of sight."

Then why was he with someone last night?

"By the way," he begins, stopping a breath of the autumn air in her chest. She wants to ask who the woman in the rusty red car was, but he speaks first. "I'm sorry for grabbing you and shit when you came over. It's just that I know how my mom gets, and it's like she can smell anything different as soon as she gets home. I didn't want her yelling at me or Jerome."