Chapter 5.
"So, are you a hobo, or what?" Jaspar is balancing himself on the curb in front of his house. He's swaying back and forth. He brought his cello home today from school and it's strapped across his back. It's swallowing him- along with his back pack- and I admire him for carrying it all the way here.
"What?"
"Well, you always come over to my house- not that it's annoying or anything. Actually, I think my mom wants to adopt you." This could be true. Whenever I'm over she seems unusually nice to me. "But, I've never even seen your house." His mouth stretches into his cheeks. "So, are you a hobo, or what?"
"Or what." I guess that I never have invited him over, have I? I didn't think he'd really want to see where I live. It's pretty boring. "Did you want to go to my house?"
He shrugs his shoulders, making his instrument shake. "It's not that I want to go to your house- It's more like I don't want to go to mine."
"There's not much to do at mine," I say.
"We should practice." Jaspar turns and starts walking towards his front door and I follow after him. I almost tell him that he looks like a walking cello case but decide against it.
It takes me a second to put together that he wants to practice our instruments. "Hey," I say. He looks back at me as we enter his doorway. "I didn't bring my viola from school- and I don't own one." I lower my head, embarrassed. My mom should've gotten me my own by now.
His face softens and he says, "No problem. My mom used to play viola. I think I saw it in here..."
He waltzes through the house and into his brother's room. I wait in the hallway and hope that Charlie isn't here. It's not that he's mean or anything, but him and Jaspar are always so cold at each other. I can't help but think there's a specific reason that Jas doesn't like him.
I've been coming to this house every other day after school and it's becoming pretty familiar to me. There's a certain comfortable feel to it that makes it better than my house. Usually Jaspar and I play video games or do homework. We have the same teachers more or less, but all in different periods. I haven't even thought about practicing with him.
Jaspar appears out of the room holding a dusty viola case and hands it to me. "I'm sure it's painfully out of tune- but it'll work."
We walk together to my house, grasping our instruments. "You're sure I can use this?" I gesture to the case in my hand. He nods and starts telling me about his mom. She used to go to the same school that we go to now, and she was the star violist. Always first chair. Apparently, she played it all through high-school too, but once in college the instrument was tucked into closets most of the time.
"Yeah, she'd only take it out to play for Charlie and I when we were babies. Maybe that's why I wanted to do orchestra."
"Why cello?" I ask. We're half a block from my house, and I start praying that if my mom's there that she's at least decent.
Jaspar looks at the beating sun and squints his whole face. "Cause it's fucking cool, man."
I laugh to myself. "Can't argue with that."
We reach my house and I grab the spare key from the under the 'welcome' mat. We enter and I thank God silently because my mom isn't here.
"Your house is big," Jaspar says, looking around, wide-eyed. My house is twice as big as his, but I couldn't say it's anywhere near as nice.
"Thanks?" I half-laugh. We walk into the living room and put our instruments down. The room consists of a couch, a coffee table, and bookshelf. There's a TV in the corner, but it's almost never used.
