Kieran & Drew (2 page)

It wasn’t a closet, as the sign indicated, but more of an abandoned office without windows. There was a bucket and mop, crap like that, but there were also damaged desks, spare chairs, and empty cabinets stacked up along the walls. In the middle, under a bare bulb, were two chairs and a table strewn with comic books.
His
comic books. He’d brought one with him one day and noticed how the janitor, Tony, kept trying to sneak a peek at the cover. He didn’t come right out and ask if Tony liked comics. Not only because he wouldn’t get an answer—Tony didn’t like to speak—but also because he already knew. One comic book geek could easily spot another, even if the other was unaware that they were in fact a comic book geek.

Ah, Tony. Tony was probably the one friend Kieran did have, even if he didn’t actually talk. He was a great hulking beast of a man, both tall and fat. So fat, in fact, that the zipper of his overalls stretched at the seams. Kieran often wondered if, were he to listen close enough, he would be able to hear that zipper screaming. Tony was big and fat, bearded and silent, and friendly.
Friendly
.

“Waddup, Tony?” Kieran greeted him, forcing a smile.

Tony glanced up, lifted his chin slightly in greeting, and then went straight back to his sandwich and comic. Kieran shrugged off his backpack and pulled out the spare chair and then his lunch.

“What you got today?” He knew better than to expect an answer but asked anyway out of habit. He unwrapped his own ham-and-cheese and craned his neck to try and guess what it was Tony was munching on.

“That bacon? Pastrami? Oh my God, are you rocking a meatball sub? Man! You always have better food than me.” He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he might have seen a twitch of the man’s lips amidst the copious amounts of bristly black hair sprouting out of his face.

“What you reading today?” He fanned the remaining dog-eared comic books out across the table top. “You gone for the
Green Lantern
again, huh?” He plucked a comic out of the pile for himself. “That’s cool, just means there’s more
Hellboy
for me. Heh heh.”

He ate his sandwich, read his comic and enjoyed Tony’s easy company, and decided that, okay, there were a few things about school he didn’t absolutely hate. He didn’t hate Tony. He didn’t hate art class, despite how on edge it made him to sit next to Drew, and he didn’t hate sitting under the bleachers, watching Drew pitch. In fact, that was what he was going to do after lunch. Screw social studies.

D
REW stood aside, letting the other students file out of class as he waited for Matt to finish up talking to Ms. Taylor, his math teacher. Sneaking a glance back through the doorway and judging by Ms. Taylor’s expression, he could only assume Matt had done less than great on their last quiz. He watched Matt nod resignedly and then leaned back against the wall with a sigh. When Matt left the classroom but missed seeing him, Drew caught Matt’s arm.
“Yo, I’m here.” He grinned when Matt jumped slightly.

“Dick,” Matt scolded. “You didn’t have to wait; we’ll both be late for practice now.”

 

“Ah, fuck it. I’m sure coach’ll let it slide this once, seeing as we’re the best players on the team and all.”

 

“Ah, very wise you are, yessss.”

 

“Have you been hanging out with Travis recently, by any chance?” Drew asked, meaningMatt’s little brother.

“Crap. Yeah, was I talking like Yoda again?”
“A little.”
“Man. My little bro is a
geek
.”
“Nah, he’s okay.”
Matt smiled despite his teasing words. “I guess.”
“Must be kind of cool to have a nine-year-old worship you.”

Matt shrugged, looking kind of smug. “It ain’t bad. Though, come on….” He held his hands out to his sides, palms up. “It’s pretty difficult to not admire perfection.”

Drew laughed. “Perfection, huh? Is that what Ms. Taylor was calling you in there?”

 

Matt grimaced. “Not exactly.”

 

“Do we need to make a study date?” he teased, batting his eyelashes.

 

Matt grinned and shoved Drew away a pace. “Yeah, seems like it. I hate math. I suck at it.”

 

“Yeah, you do. Alright, get your ass on over to my place tonight. We’ll crack the books.”

 

“Can’t tonight. I promised I’d take Travis to see the new
Iron Man
movie. Tomorrow?”

“Sounds good.” They walked in silence for a moment as they approached the school’s gym. “I think I’d like to have a brother,” Drew mused.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if he was bugging you to play with him every five minutes or making you watch
Star Wars
again for the fiftieth time.”

“I don’t know, I think having a big family must be better than having a small one, right?”

Matt glanced at him. “Maybe,” he said a little more seriously. “Though, I mean, if you don’t have siblings then that’s what awesome, good-looking best friends are for.” He gave Drew his most cheesy grin.

Drew snorted. “You have a very skewed, unhealthy perception of yourself going on in that little head, you know that?”

 

“Yep!”

Drew shook his head. “Come on, race you the rest of the way. On three. One, two—” He set off at a sprint on
two
, leaving Matt to cuss him out three paces behind.

Practice was good for a number of reasons, Drew decided two hours later while walking home. First, he loved the exercise. He loved the feeling of exhaustion after giving a game absolutely everything he had. He loved the stretch of muscle and the warmth it generated through his body. He also enjoyed the camaraderie with his teammates, either sharing a victory or leaning on each other through a loss. But mostly, he loved that it ate up the hours after school, leaving him too tired when he got in to do anything but eat whatever he could rustle up in the kitchen and then sag in front of his computer or TV in his bedroom. Overall, it meant less time spent with his mother, who would most likely be rattling around the house, mumbling to herself.

Goddammit, why’d things have to be the way they were? Why couldn’t he have been born into Matt’s family? Instead, he lived with his mom. Just the two of them. Or at least it was just the two of them while his uncle was away on tour, risking his life and being a hero in another part of the world, surrounded by sand.

He knew technically he
did
have a bigger family, but it was by blood only, and thin blood at that. His dad divorced his mess of a mother five years ago and went and had himself a brand new, undamaged family. New kids. New kids that were his half siblings and that he still hadn’t met. He kicked a can across the sidewalk. His dad didn’t really visit anymore. Didn’t call all that much, either. Drew supposed that if he had a four-year-old daughter, twin two-year-old boys, and a pretty young wife, he’d probably forget all about him too.

It doesn’t matter. I don’t care
, he repeated yet again in his head.

Things would be better when his uncle Rich came back. Just a few more months, that’s what Rich had promised. Just a few more months and then back in time to see Drew graduate. He could make do. He could look after his mom until Rich was home, and then it’d be the three of them again and life would align itself into something manageable—something almost normal. He’d be able to breathe easier.

Uncle Rich made everything better. He moved in right after his dad took off, and having always been close to his sister—Drew’s mother—there hadn’t been a moment’s hesitation on his behalf. Uncle Rich understood his mom’s condition; he knew what to do to coax her out of her pajamas, and even on occasion managed to get her into the backyard for a little sun. Drew didn’t know how to do that. He didn’t want to let Uncle Rich down, but Drew didn’t know how to keep her calm and happy like he did, and the pressure was starting to wear him down.

He only had the faintest of memories, but apparently things hadn’t always been so bad when he was little. Her agoraphobia hadn’t yet sapped the life and fun out of her completely. She was born in Cedar Keys and would certainly never leave the island, let alone the house she’d lived in her entire life, but he could remember as a child walking with her down the street to the local store on occasion. No farther, of course, but it was something. She wouldn’t even open the front door now.

He could feel that tickle of muted rage in the back of his mind now. He had his theories. His father hadn’t even waited for the ink to dry on the divorce papers before he married again. Just how long had he been unfaithful to Drew’s mother, and how long had she been aware, and played along? Something had destroyed her fragile condition, which had at one time been manageable. Something as terrible as the person she loved most, the person who had vowed to stay with her through sickness and health, just up and leaving.
Abandoning
her. He imagined that would probably do it.

He hated his father sometimes. He hated him for marrying his mother to begin with, for telling her that her agoraphobia did not affect his feelings for her. He hated him for leading her on like that and then leaving. He hated his father for leaving
him
, for forgetting him, for not caring.

He took a deep breath, hesitating at the corner that would turn onto his street. He didn’t want to be thinking all this bad shit when he got home. He wanted to be the guy his mother could rely on, just as his dad had been once upon a time.

He got his shit together. It wasn’t that bad, he reminded himself as he turned the corner, his house coming into view. Other kids had mothers who were sick with a physical disease. Other kids had moms who were dying. Other kids had no mother at all. His mother wasn’t dying; she just got a little lost inside of her head sometimes.

He took the steps two at a time up the porch and slung his gym bag just inside the doorway, where his mom would pick it up and add it to the laundry later. He took a cautious sniff and was relieved that he couldn’t smell weed. Unfortunately, the house didn’t smell of food, either, and he was starving.

“Mom?”

“Drew, honey? Where have you been?” She appeared at the top of the stairs, wringing her hands. “I was worried about you, I thought you’d left.”

He held in a sigh and went up the stairs to hug her. “I had practice, remember? You should check the calendar on the fridge; it’s all marked down when I’ll be home late.”

She covered her face with her hands for a moment, and his stomach turned slightly to see that they were shaking. “Oh! I’m so silly.” She laughed, clearly relieved. “How are you, honey? How was your day?”

“It was fine, I’m… I’m kind of hungry, though. Is there anything to—?”

 

“Oh…
damn
!” she yelled at herself, screwing her eyes shut. “I was going to cook you my tuna casserole and I forgot, damn it!”

“Mom, it’s fine,” he said weakly, feeling guilty for even mentioning it. “I can just have a sandwich or something, it’s no big deal.”

“Yes, it is. You do so much for me and I can’t even cook you a warm meal. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

 

“Really, Mom, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. Come on, come sit at the kitchen table and I’ll rustle something up.” She took his hand and guided him down the stairs and to the kitchen.

He sat and waited patiently despite feeling tired and desperate for a shower, and chatted idly with her as she boiled him two eggs and cut up buttered bread for soldiers.

“There,” she said happily. “Here are the soldiers, now we just have to wait for eggs. They’re soldiers just like your uncle.” She bit her lip. “I think he comes home soon.”

“Yep,” he tried brightly. “Just a few more months.”
She nodded. “That’s good.”

He watched her, knowing she was trying to build up the courage to say something; he just didn’t know what.

 

“Y-you’ll be going off to college soon.”

 

Drew sighed. “Local community college, Mom,” he said softly. “I won’t be far away, not far at all. I’ll see you all the time, I promise.”

At first, her shoulders drooped in obvious relief. Then she smiled brightly. “You’ll be a wonderful fireman. I am so proud of you.
So
proud.”

He smiled, feeling oddly bashful in the face of his mother’s support of his hopes to be a fireman. “Thanks, Mom,” he mumbled. It meant a lot to him that she wasn’t just focusing on what she would lose when he left for college. He glanced at the clock. It was almost ten, and he was getting tired.

“Here you go!” she chirped, setting two runny boiled eggs down next to his soldiers.

“Thanks, Mom.” He wolfed them down quickly and only happened to glance up between mouthfuls and notice that she was doing it again. She was sitting across from him, worrying her lip. “What is it?”

She startled slightly. “Oh, I was… I was hoping you could pick up a few things for me tomorrow.”

 

He shrugged. “Sure, I’ll go to the store after school. Then Matt’ll be coming home with me. I said I’d help him study.”

 

This only seemed to make her more uncomfortable. “Will… will Matt be going to the store with you?”

 

“I guess, why?”

She flushed and comprehension suddenly hit him. “Oh, do you need… you know, your… lady stuff?”
Lady stuff?
It didn’t matter how often he did it, it would never
not
be mortifying to buy his mother’s tampons.

She nodded quickly, eyes averted. “I’m sorry, Drew, honey. I know that’s embarrassing. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable in front of Matt, either.”

He coughed. “It’s fine.”

 

“I need some shampoo too, and we’re out of baking soda and laundry detergent. Oh! And I need some new incense sticks.” “Why don’t you write me a list and I’ll pick it all up tomorrow.” He hesitated a moment. “I’ll tell Matt to wait outside.”

She nodded. “You’re so good to me, Drew. My own little hero.” He wouldn’t go that far.

“Do you think… do you think you could nip over to Mr. Gullbeck’s tomorrow and pick up a little—?”

 

“No.” He cut her off firmly, feeling guilty for it but unwilling to bend on the issue.

 

“It’s just for my nerves, Drew….”

“No, Mom. If you want something for your nerves, then we can call the doctor out again, but I’m not buying you weed. I’m not doing that.”