The Ties That Bind

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

(Bernice ^^)

     "I don't think I passed my biology test this morning." Penny stated glumly to her friends as she poked at the salad on her plate. "I shouldn't have waited until the last minute to review the material."

     "That's what I told you last Friday." Luke reminded her.

     "I don't think I did too bad." Davy injected into the conversation. "I didn't do too well either, but I think I passed at least."

     Kasden had tried to convince his two friends to study with him for the test, but Davy and Penny had bailed; they were more interested in having fun than studying. Now they were left with regrets. Kasden always spent as much time as possible studying to prepare for his tests. He needed good grades if he wanted to get a scholarship, and he was focused on reaching his goal. He was sometimes able to convince his friends that they should study with him, and sometimes not so much. Friday had been one of those 'not so much' days.

     The cafeteria was crowded with kids scrambling to get in line for lunch, or to find a table before they were all filled. It meant that everyone was talking louder than normal to be heard over the raucous din. Kasden sat picking at his food, mostly just moving it around on the plate instead of putting it into his mouth; Penny noticed his unusual behavior and spoke up without thinking.

     "You're awfully quiet today, Kas. You look like shit (did I say she spoke without thinking?); your eye bags have bags under them, and you've been pushing those veggies around on your plate for at least ten minutes now. Are you okay? Is there something going on?"

     "It's nothing; I'm just feeling a bit out of it today. I didn't sleep so well, and I have a slight headache." He replied, glancing over at his friend. "I'll be fine, don't worry about it."

     It was true that he hadn't slept well; not since he'd seen his mother for the first time in years and experienced her hostile confrontation. It was also true that he had a headache as a result; but he didn't feel like talking about what happened at the banquet. Even though he'd shared some of it with the two priests on Saturday, and then he'd told the whole story to Simon, who thankfully, was keeping it to himself, he felt that talking to his friends about it, and their certain sympathy, would only make him feel worse. He didn't want sympathy.

     He'd spent the weekend reliving the same painful feelings he'd felt so long ago. He felt like he'd felt back in the past, when he'd waited by St. Jerome's heavy doors, day after day, watching for his mother to come take him back home. Only this time, this time he knew she wasn't coming. This time there would be no waiting, nor watching. This time instead of hope, he was filled with an emptiness, that made his stomach churn, and shrouded his whole being under a dark, heavy cloud.

     This time he knew the truth; she didn't want him. She had left him at St. Jerome's with no intention of coming back for him. Ever. He still didn't know why, all he knew was that he hurt inside, and nothing was going to fix it.

     Somehow, knowing the truth hurt more than all the waiting he'd done when he was young, and still had hope that she would come back. The dream that someday she would come back and throw her arms around him and tell him how sorry she was for making him wait so long had faded over the years, but it had still been there, treasured in the back of his mind. He'd grown accustomed to keeping it there; out of the way, but still, a cherished and precious dream.

     Now, that dream lay shattered at his feet in a million pieces; there was no more dream; no more hope. There was no hiding from the truth; he wasn't wanted.  

     The first words he'd heard from his mother in over twelve years were harsh, and even hateful. They echoed through his memory, repeating over and over like a broken record player, scratching the same stanza again and again and again.

     "God, I thought I'd never have to see you again. I hope you don't get any ideas about contacting me; there's nothing for us to talk about. You don't mean anything to me and frankly, I shouldn't mean anything to you. So just stay away from me, do you understand?"

     Just thinking about the words brought more tears. He excused himself, leaving the table as quickly as he was able. He made his way through the crowded cafeteria, only once bumping into another student; his quick 'excuse me' was probably not even heard. He kept his head down so they wouldn't see his eyes already starting to overflow. He ran to the nearest bathroom and locked himself in a stall; fortunately, the room was empty, and nobody heard the quiet sobs ripped from the broken-hearted boy's sore throat.

     Coming to school today had been a bad idea; he should have asked Mrs. Milton if he could skip, she would have understood. He wanted to be alone. He needed to cry some more, even though he'd been crying all weekend; his heart still ached, and nothing he did was able to ease that ache. Three days since his mother's rejection and his chest still felt as tight as ever.

     He texted his friends telling them that he was going to skip the rest of the day and go back to the orphanage. Attending anymore classes would be useless; he couldn't concentrate on them anyway.

---

     Kasden leaned against an old oak tree in a small park not far from St. Jerome's; the rough bark poking into his back didn't bother him. His eyes were closed; he wanted to shut out the world for just a while and if he couldn't see it, he could pretend it couldn't see him either. Those in the world who did notice the boy simply assumed he was napping. That is unless they looked close enough to see his red, swollen eyes and puffy face.

     He used his sleeve to wipe away the tears that he was still unable to control, sniffing loudly to clear his clogged nose.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there, but the sky was darkening, and the air was beginning to carry a slight chill as evening rolled in. Still, he sat, not yet ready to move. Footsteps swished across the grass, an unwelcome notification that he was no longer alone. He kept his eyes closed, unwilling to acknowledge the newcomer.

     A soft sigh escaped the visitor, who took it upon himself to sit beside the sad youngster.

  "It's getting late, Kas." The newcomer said. "Let's head home and I'll have your dinner sent to your room. You won't have to explain yourself to anyone."

     "I'm not hungry, sir." Kasden stated blandly. "Can't I stay just a little longer?"

     "Not tonight, I think. Come now, you may not be hungry at the moment, but you need something to eat. Simon said you didn't finish your lunch today." Mr. Milton put his arm around the boy's shoulder and pulled him into a hug.

     "I know you're sad, but this isn't doing you any good. Let's get you a good meal and I'll have the Mrs. brew you a cup of chamomile tea; it'll help you sleep. You'll feel better after a good night's sleep."

     He helped the boy get to his feet and they walked side by side back to the place Kasden called home. It struck him that the St. Jerome's really was 'home', and it had been, ever since the day he'd arrived.