Kieran & Drew (13 page)

“Drew.” He shook his head. “I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean to fuck anything up for you, I just really,
really
needed to talk to you.” “Yeah, I got that. I got your texts, I got your voice mail, and I got your fucking
note
.”

“Then why didn’t you text back?” Kieran shot back, hating the way Drew was being with him. “Why couldn’t you just acknowledge me?”

The anger lingered with Drew for a few more seconds, then slowly bled away as his shoulders slumped and he glanced away from Kieran, across the street. “Fuck, I don’t know,” he said, looking back at Kieran and shrugging helplessly. “I’m a coward? Or I’m just a really shitty person who makes false promises then leaves you twisting in the wind? You pick.”

Kieran swallowed, took a deep breath and then let it out quickly. “Look, Toby’s not going to say anything.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You kn— Then why… why are you doing this, then? Am I just some guy you fooled around with and now you’re done?”

 

“No.” Drew shook his head, certain of this one thing at least. “No, I really, really like you, Kieran,” he said softly.

Kieran stepped forward, his hand extended where he wanted to grip Drew’s shirt, but Drew gently pushed him away, glancing around them. “Then why can’t we just go back to how it was? We-we can just go back to seeing each other in secret, yeah? No one needs to know about anything.”

“That guy knows.”
“I told you, Toby’s not going to—”
“It doesn’t matter!”

Kieran’s hands flew out to his sides and then went limp in a helpless gesture. “I don’t understand. What can I do to—?”

“There’s nothing, Kieran. It’s just…. It’s enough that this guy
knows
. That makes it real and….” He shook his head, letting out a deep breath.

“And what?”

 

“And I don’t think I can deal with it just yet. I’m sorry; I know how shitty that sounds.
Fuck
.”

“But… but you’re so into what we… you know, what we
do
. How can you say you’re not ready to deal when you’re always more than happy to have me get down on my knees and—”

“
Don’t
.” Drew closed his eyes tight a second. “I know, okay? I know how fucking dumb I sound, but I can’t explain it any better than that. It’s just the way I feel.”

“So… so that’s it?”

Drew shrugged helplessly, clenching his jaw hard when Kieran’s expression fell with disappointment and his eyes began to shine. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you saying we’re not even friends?” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “You just don’t want to know me at all?”

“It’s not like that, Kieran.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it’s
not
, Kieran.”

“What… what if I moved away from you in art? And-and I won’t try and talk to you in front of Matt or Adam Jefferson again, or—” “Kieran!” Drew let out a harsh breath and swiped his hands over his face. “Do you honestly think we could be
just
friends?”

Kieran’s silence was response enough.
“Me too,” he said, his expression deeply unhappy.

“Maybe you just need some time and space,” Kieran offered weakly.

“Kieran, we graduate in a couple of months. You said yourself, you want to leave Keys, so what are we really losing here?” He lifted one shoulder. “It’s not like we were actually dating.”

He watched as Kieran digested that, and hated himself when Kieran looked away and swiped at the corner of his eye with the heel of his hand.

He’d made Kieran cry. He’d made Kieran cry and he was a fucking bastard. He reached to touch Kieran’s elbow. “Kieran,” he said softly. “Don’t.”

Kieran shook his head and walked away.
ChApTer SeVeN.
“EVERYTHINGalright there, Kier bear?”
Kieran winced. “Dad, you know I hate it when you call me that,” he said quietly, stirring his cereal.

 

His dad paused from taking a sip of his coffee. “Since when?”

Since forever. Since we became strangers. Since you started treating me like nothing more than a roommate.
“Don’t call me that anymore.”

He heard his dad sigh, and it sounded uncomfortable. “Alright. Back to my original question, though, is everything alright? You seem a little down.” He gestured with his mug to Kieran’s cereal bowl. “I know you like it when the milk is chocolatey, but your breakfast is turning into mush.”

He lifted one shoulder, continuing to stir. “Maybe I like mush.” “Kieran,” his dad said, his voice more serious.

Kieran looked up to see that his dad had lowered his mug and was actually looking straight at him for what felt like the first time in months.

“You’re worrying me. What is it?”

 

Kieran sighed, biting his lip. Now more than ever he wished he remembered how to talk to his dad openly.

 

“Is it your allergies? Are you feeling sick?”

He could barely restrain himself from rolling his eyes. Of course his dad would revert back to asking what might have bothered him when he was
thirteen
. “No, Dad, I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” he said in monotone.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a
mental health
day?” His dad smiled at him, as if he’d just said something very funny. “Your attendance is great. One day won’t hurt. I’ll call you in sick if you want to have a lazy day surfing the couch, watching movies.”

Kieran considered it for a moment; it was actually a nice thing to offer, but he knew it wouldn’t solve anything. “No, I should go in. I’ve got stuff to do. In class, I mean.”

“Okay.” His dad shifted uncomfortably, folding and unfolding the corner of the paper he’d been skimming. “Do you want to come by the restaurant after school? We can hang out a little.”

Actually, he had plans. Pathetic, loser-esque plans. He’d be under the bleachers, his very own regular, private haunt, watching Drew and doodling with markers.

Not one word. Drew had not spoken a single word or even looked his way in nearly three weeks. He’d even gone so far as to ditch art class, which not only made Kieran feel like shit, it made him feel like a leper. And when he did see Drew, he seemed fine. Quiet maybe, but fine, whereas he himself was slowly coming apart.

Drew was right, they hadn’t been dating. They spent a few weeks making out in the storage room; they didn’t really
know
each other. But what was apparently easy for Drew to let go of was nearly impossible for him to forget. So Drew had hooked up with someone, a
guy
, for a while. He still had friends and an easy, normal senior life to go back to. Kieran had gotten a taste of what it was like to have friends and to feel wanted. Now he was supposed to just go back to being a loner? It was eating him alive. Even Tony, the mute janitor, had glanced away from his comic books more than once to frown at him and his lack of bubbly chatter. He had nothing to do and nowhere to go and he couldn’t stop missing Drew—or missing the closeness he’d
experienced
with Drew. So no, he wouldn’t be going to the restaurant to hang out with his dad. He’d be under the bleachers.

“I have to stay late at school. Sorry,” he mumbled. He pushed his bowl of cereal—which was indeed now nothing but mush—away and stood from the table. “See you later, or whenever.”

His dad sighed. “Okay, Kier. You know where I’ll be if you need me.”

H
E TRIED his best to ignore the empty seat next to him, but it may as well have been a swirling black hole where Drew was supposed to be. He probably looked as miserable as he felt, but he didn’t much care. He could stick this out for a few more months before leaving.

And he would be leaving. The American River College had written back, accepting him. More than two thousand miles away from Keys and away from everything he’d ever known. He thought that, if anything, these gloomy past few weeks would only strengthen his resolve to take off. But it didn’t. He hadn’t been able to mention it to his dad—who he was pretty sure wanted him to stay local—and he wasn’t sure why. And the thought of leaving the place where Drew had last spoken to him, and last touched him, filled him with misery.

He had time yet to bring it up, there was plenty of time to make arrangements and to get around his dad, and he knew he still wanted to go, but what he hadn’t expected was to feel sad about leaving. He shook his head. Whatever. What will be, will be, and all that shit.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

 

Kieran looked up, snapping out of his daydream. “Oh, hey, Toby.”

 

Toby frowned. “You okay?”

 

Kieran forced a smile and nodded, but couldn’t really bring himself to speak so instead went back to his open sketchbook. “Is it alright if I sit here?”

Kieran’s instinct was tell him no, it was Drew’s stool, and where he sat, no one else. Then he realized how desperate and stupid that would make him sound, and lifted one shoulder instead. “If you like. You sure Trinder won’t mind?”

Toby gave him an odd smile. “Your head really is in the clouds, isn’t it? Mr. Trinder isn’t here today. We’ve got a sub.”

Kieran looked to the front of the class and noticed that, yes, that wasn’t Mr. Trinder sitting at his desk, reading a book and ignoring the class. “Oh.”

“I hope you don’t mind me saying that you seem a little… out of it, just lately.” Toby pulled out Drew’s stool and sat himself down. “Do I?” he asked, attempting to seem disinterested in lieu of actually having to talk about why.

 

“Well…
yeah
.” Toby laughed humorlessly. “And I don’t think I need to guess why.”

Kieran glanced at him and then quickly looked away again, worrying his lip. He didn’t want to talk about it with Toby. “It’s nothing.”

“Look….” Toby lowered his voice. “The guy’s not worth it.” “
Don’t
,” Kieran whispered harshly, glancing around them. No one was paying attention.

“Hey, I get it, okay? He’s good-looking, even I can appreciate that. Hell, I may have even carried a torch for him myself back in the day.”

Kieran frowned at him, wondering just when “back in the day” was, precisely. He swallowed down his annoyance and jealousy at the thought of anyone else being with Drew. He knew he’d been Drew’s first gay… whatever he’d been.

“He’s athletic….” Toby continued in a low voice only for them, oblivious to Kieran’s feelings. “He’s cute, he’s—at first glance—a nice guy, he’s even academic, but he’s also a total prick.”

“What?” Kieran snapped. Even now, he felt loyal to Drew. It was pathetic.

 

“Come on. The guy freaks out and then cuts you loose like you’re nothing?”

 

That stung, but he had no rebuttal. There was no refuting the truth.

 

“Surely that’s not the kind of guy you want to be with?” “Well….” He glanced around quickly and chipped off the edge of his eraser with his thumbnail. “We were never really…
together
.” “Well, there you go. Don’t you want more than that?” “I don’t really know what I want.” It was a lie and he knew it. He just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

“What you need is perspective.”
“Perspective?” he echoed dubiously.

“You need to have some
fun
. Tell you what, are you busy tonight?”

 

“Well, actually….” He looked at Toby, trying to read him. Why the hell not? “N-no, I guess not.”

 

“Right, you’re hanging with me, then.”

 

The bell signaling the end of class interrupted them. Toby nudged him with his elbow as he stood.

 

“Meet me by the front gate when school lets out. I’ve got my car with me today.”

 

“Uh… well, okay, I guess.”

 

“Great, it’s a date.” He winked, looking smug, and Kieran didn’t know if he was kidding around or if Toby was naturally that bullish.

Not having a chance to even respond, he slowly gathered his things together, watching as Toby took off out of the classroom with a quick glance back.

T
HE CD player was blaring and Kieran felt himself wince as the singer of some obscure rock band screamed at him through the speakers. This did, however, leave little space for conversation and instead allowed opportunity for Kieran to observe.

Everything about Toby exuded confidence. Kieran just wasn’t sure if it was something to admire or downright annoying. Everything down to the way he dressed, the way he spoke, and the way he drove. Even his car was a little beyond what he’d expect a senior to be driving. He reasoned it had to belong to his parents; he had no idea what make it was (not having a license or being a car guy and choosing instead to mostly walk everywhere), but it was red, kind of slinky looking, and had a soft top that was thankfully
up
for the time being. It was the perfect car to be showing off in, if you ignored the faulty passenger door handle. It was with a flush that Toby had come around to the passenger side of the car and had to jimmy and yank at the handle before it would open. Aside from that, it was a proverbial chick… or dude (as the case may be) magnet.

Toby drove a little too fast, Kieran thought, but seemed very laidback about it. He was slouched in the driver’s seat with one hand on the wheel and his elbow resting on the driver’s window frame. Kieran had never honestly taken a moment to observe Toby, to truly look at him, and it turned out he wasn’t a bad-looking guy, really.

He had dark hair that swept across his brow and curled around his ears, and one of those tunnel things in his ear, the type of earring that stretched a hole in your earlobe and made it droopy like some kind of aboriginal tribesman. His jeans were low riding and baggy, and he wore a thin chain hooked through a belt loop and leading to his back pocket. He looked cool, way cooler than Drew. Where Drew had a straightedge, clean-cut, good-boy vibe, Toby possessed something completely different. Toby didn’t quite pull off the bad-boy vibe, but he had something about him that was difficult to feel out, he was almost… indifferent, and therefore solid,
impermeable
.

Kieran could admire that, he thought. The idea of becoming like Toby—of being able to shrug off Drew or his dad or even Adam Jefferson, and just leaving them all behind with a well-placed “so fucking long, losers”—was entirely appealing to him. He looked at Toby and wondered if he’d misjudged him; perhaps he wasn’t as shallow or boring as he’d first thought. Perhaps he was in fact a river that ran deep. Lost, but fucking owning it. Maybe they could be good friends, even best friends, and get lost together. He’d never have to think about Drew, his dad, or school again, and he’d finally start living his life without feeling like he was rattling around inside a birdcage with hot, sea-green bars.