The Sunshine Boy and the Weaver King

Chapter Twenty Two

Anthony was walking out of Briar's back entrance when a hand touched his shoulder.

Before he could do anything, a familiar voice said, "You're leaving?"

He looked over his shoulder.

Maddox stood behind him, hand dropping back to his side. His eyes were bright and unflinching. Something looked different about him, but Anthony couldn't put his finger on it. Maddox never unnerved him, but for some reason, in this moment, he did.

Anthony also couldn't come up with a response.

"Does Ryan know?" Maddox asked, as if that would say everything.

Ryan. Of course. And of course not. Anthony was too afraid to even check his phone to see if Ryan had texted or called. And now it was at the police station, as evidence. His broken laptop was there, too, and everything else that had been in his pockets and backpack. Maybe the answer to that question would give away too much.

Maddox tilted his head back. "You aren't supposed to be here, are you?"

What was he supposed to do? Lie? He'd know by the end of the day. And he'd seen what Anthony did-- the first few punches thrown. Maddox wasn't enough of an idiot to not at least guess close to what the truth was. He knew how bad it looked.

"Why are you suddenly so curious in me?" Anthony asked. "Thought I was nothing."

Maddox eyed him. "You're acting like a completely different person."

"And?" It wasn't like Maddox was acting the same, either.

"And I'm wondering why," he said, "because a few days ago you were asking me to be your friend, and now you want nothing to do with me."

A few days ago I was drunk. Anthony looked at the ground, at the black tips of Maddox's shoes. A few days ago I thought I'd have time. Time to do what, he didn't know, but something. Anything, really.

Maddox seemed hesitant to leave. Actually, he seemed like he didn't want to at all. He stepped closer. Anthony glanced up and could see the gray flicks in Maddox's eyes, count his eyelashes, and see the faint splatter of freckles across his nose. He hadn't known Maddox had freckles.

"Can you tell Ryan I'm sorry," he said, "and I'll try to get in touch soon?" he paused. Shook his head. "Actually, no, don't tell him any of that. I don't-- I don't know what I'm doing. Don't tell him."

"I'll tell him." Maddox said.

"I--No." Anthony shook his head. Crap. What was he supposed to do? Ryan didn't need to be brought into anything, and Burke was right. He was digging himself into a hole of self pity. If he let himself be killed, it'd be a horrible, violent death. 

"Five two oh, six oh seven, two two one five." Maddox said. "That's my number. Call me tomorrow."

Anthony blinked, stunned. "Why?"

"You don't want to be the ant." Maddox wasn't smiling. He was just standing there, cold and unreachable as ever. "I'm thinking maybe you aren't one."

Five two oh. Six oh seven. Two two one five.

Maybe a little less unreachable now. 

*

Mia sat next to Anthony on the couch as a show he hadn't been paying attention to played on the flat screen TV hung on the wall. She was eating popcorn, and after three attempts to offer it to him, left the bowl on her lap.

Three magazines, matching the aesthetic of the room a little too well to actually be chosen for their readability, were splayed across the glass coffee table.