The Recital of Terrance Reed

Chapter Eight

When we arrived at my house, Kyle did not say anything. We just exited the car, walked toward the house, and awkwardly silently slipped through the front door.

I wanted to say something to him to break the silence, but he would not even take the time to give me a look. So, I best to keep silent and let the awkwardness between us.

There was something else that was bothering me. Like it was something important, was it necessary if I had already forgotten about it? I am not sure, but it tickled my brain like a feather. It also gave me annoyance because I couldn't figure it out.

Lina yawned and staggered toward her bedroom. Kyle insisted on helping her, but Lina told him it was all right. She insisted she was a big girl. So, now it was just the two of us looking at each other. I need to figure out what to say or even begin the conversation. So, I just removed my shoes and walked toward the kitchen. It was where we kept our cleaning supplies.

"So, where are the cleaning supplies?" Kyle finally spoke.

I glanced over; he was standing on one foot like a flamingo taking off his shoe. "You don't have to, Kyle. It's messy and gross. I will not make you clean up." I insisted.

Kyle chuckled. "Not a problem," He walked toward me and placed his hand over my shoulders. "It's not the first time I had to clean blood from the carpet. My stupid dad is a drunk, so that he can get a little too rowdy. So, his balance is like a horse trying to stand on a beach ball when he drinks a lot. That is probably why he is always cranky all the time. Because he hurts like a bitch."

I faintly smiled. It was weird for him to say it the way he did. And after knowing how his family was, it felt almost like it happened too many times. But I had no right to push my nose into his business. So, I pointed my finger toward where the cleaning supplies were kept. Kyle nodded and confidently strode for the cleaning cabinet.

"You know, Pine-Sol is all you need to get the blood out of the carpet," Kyle talked informatively. He tapped on his nose. "I assume you have some bleach?"

"Yeah. We have both." The smell of pine sol always gave me this sense of nostalgia. It is what my mother always used growing up. It was one way of saying, "Get out, I'm cleaning," or "Stay and help, or get the fuck out." And I always knew to fuck off. I smiled when he pulled it out.

"Ah, a secret agent of being good to dispose of evidence of a dead body," his voice was low and deep, and he glared at me with evil eyes. I frowned.

"Umm, did you have to clean up a dead person's body?" I asked, wondering if he was serious or not.

Kyle scoffed. "What? I am just joking Wallflower!" He began laughing and pulling out the pine sol and bleach. "Just because I had a shitty childhood does not mean I trifle with stuff like that... or did I?"

I gasped slightly. Kyle groaned. "I am just joking, Wallflower."

"Sorry," I quickly added. I was getting embarrassed.

"Ah, don't worry. Just take a joke next time," Kyle bluntly said. I started scratching my arm, and I blushed. he walked past me and smiled.

Standing there, I couldn't help but think about how uncomfortable Kyle must have felt. Although I wish I could take his joke lightly, I don't like how it sounds when it comes from him. I wondered if he was frustrated with me or the situation was putting too much pressure on him. It wasn't fair for him to be dragged into this mess. I need to learn to take things less seriously and not overthink everything. Sometimes, I wish my mind could be at peace.

"So, are you gonna stand like a scarecrow or show me the way to the crime scene?" Kyle took me out of my daze, and I nodded.

"It's this way," I uttered.