Kieran & Drew (28 page)

“I’m so stupid,” he said to himself.
T
HERE were a hundred other things—more productive and important things—he could be doing rather than lying on his bed, wearing a certain someone’s Squids jacket and staring up at the ceiling. He could be contacting the American River College to confirm his placement there (if it wasn’t already too late to do so——he was afraid to find out). He could be deciding what to pack. He could be trying to at least somewhat smooth things over with his father. But to do any of that would mean to have finally made a choice—to have chosen a future that did not include Drew.

He hadn’t spoken to him. At all. Though difficult to begin with, it’d become easier when Drew had more or less disappeared. He didn’t know if it was in an attempt to avoid him or if Drew’s life had suddenly become busy, but the last few weeks of school had been lonely and not how he’d wanted to spend them. And now he’d screwed up, because tomorrow was the last day of school. Tomorrow he graduated, and it would be the last time he would see Drew, if he decided to leave.

A decent person would have sought Drew out to tell him not to hope and to not worry about going out of his way to avoid him, but he wasn’t that guy, he was a coward. And worse yet, he was still as undecided and confused as he’d been the day Drew told him to go away and think about it.

He looked over at where his cap and gown hung against his wardrobe, pressed and ready for the big day. The day after tomorrow was supposed to be the beginning of his new life, the one he’d been imagining for the last few years. He was supposed to feel hopeful.

He sat up, letting out a frustrated groan. He was late for school. He knew he wouldn’t be in trouble for it, seeing as for most classes, the teachers were letting them just chillax and take the time to say goodbye. He thought about what and who he would want to say good-bye to. Aside from Drew, there weren’t really any other students he wanted to reminisce with or have sign his yearbook, as was traditional in their school. There were no teachers, no classrooms (apart from a particular storage room) that held any relevance to him. He didn’t want to see under the bleachers, knowing that to see his and Drew’s initials doodled all over would be upsetting. But he liked the idea that they were still there and would probably stay there for many years yet. No, there was only one reason to go to school today, and that was to say good-bye to one person.

Tony. The silent janitor.

He may never have heard Tony say a single word during all their lunchtime meals shared together, but they were friends, and he wanted to say good-bye to his friend.

“
T
ONY?” He poked his head around a stack of chairs and spotted the janitor, in his usual spot, reading a comic and munching on his sandwich.

It was a comforting picture, but this time, it was also bittersweet. “Hey, Tony.”

He took his usual spot and catalogued it, as he’d been doing all day. His day hadn’t been spent saying good-bye to friends, so much as places. He’d saved away his memory of the last time he’d use his locker or drink from a particular fountain. The last time—hopefully— he’d have to duck down a different hallway to avoid Jefferson. And seeing as graduation was taking place tomorrow during the morning, today would be the very last time he’d have lunch with Tony. He wanted to be cheery and chat like he usually would with Tony, but he didn’t have it in him today. He pulled his lunch from his backpack, sitting down.

“So, today’s probably the last time you’ll have the pleasure of my company. Graduating tomorrow,” he announced.

He tore off a corner of his sandwich, nibbling on it but not really tasting it. It was curious how, until now, he hadn’t felt at all emotional about leaving this school.

“I figured I’d leave the comics here for you.” He shrugged. “Like a leaving present or something.”

 

He was pleased when Tony looked up briefly, away from the
Spider-Man
comic he was reading, and lifted his chin in silent thanks.

“I can’t say I’m going to miss this place all that much. I haven’t had the best time here, but you probably knew that.” He looked at Tony for an answer, and merely continued after receiving none at all.

“It got better for a little while. I actually made a friend or two. I screwed it up, though.” He set his barely touched sandwich on its crumpled brown bag, pushing it away. He swallowed hard.

“I was actually intent on getting through high school with no one finding this out but… I don’t know, I kind of want to tell you this, just so someone I like knows it about me. So….” He smiled nervously. “So… so I’m gay.”

He watched Tony closely for any sort of reaction, but there was no flinch, no looking up from the comic book. He didn’t even pause in chewing. It was oddly comforting.

“And I had a boyfriend.
Me
,” he laughed. “That’s why I disappeared for a little while, but, well, you can probably guess that it didn’t work out.”

He felt his throat grow thick and quickly blinked against the sudden stinging in his eyes.

“I’ve fucked up so bad, Tony,” he said in a rush. “I’ve hated school for so long, and home didn’t feel much better. So I was all ready and set to take off and move as far away as possible, right? Only now I’ve hurt the only person who’s ever really liked me in this place—who says he
loves
me. So now I have to decide whether to forget college out of state for something that might fizzle out six months down the line, or to let go of the only person who’s ever really given a crap about me. And I guess my biggest problem is perspective. I can’t see the bigger picture because my head is so full of Drew, but… I mean first loves
never
last, do they?” he asked, not actually expecting an answer.

“And that’s not even touching on my dad.” He exhaled hard. “All of a sudden he wants to be in my life. He’s acting as if his complete and utter lack of interest in me was all in my head this entire time. Now he suddenly wants me to stay, to run his restaurant and be a part of each other’s lives, but… but where was he when I needed him, hmm? With his girlfriend, that’s where. His girlfriend, who he won’t discuss, who he won’t introduce to me, and who is more important to him than I am.” He took a heaving breath, mortified to realize he was close to tears.

“I’ve been looking forward to tomorrow for
years
. I hate this school. I hate Keys.” He brushed the heel of his palm at the dampness around his right eye. “So why do I feel so fucking sad?”

He looked at Tony, who was actually looking back at him for once. He held his sandwich—a thick, meat-filled sandwich—close to his mouth and was staring at Kieran. Kieran let out a choked sob.

“You always have better food than me!” he cried.

He was startled when Tony’s beefy paw settled on his shoulder, and blinked at him in wonder. When Tony spoke, his voice was unexpectedly soft. Deep in timbre, but soft, and almost affectionate.

“You’re a nice kid.”
Kieran shook his head. “No, I’m really not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I don’t know what to do.”

Tony frowned, glancing away, back at his comic for a few seconds, and then back to Kieran. He looked him right in the eyes. His words seemed deliberate and were spoken slowly. “Grudges are pointless. Talk to your dad.” He looked away, his large, boulder-like shoulders falling in a heavy sigh. “People are important, Kieran.” And then he was back to eating his sandwich, his eyes fixed once more on
Spider-Man
.

Kieran took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I guess I’m just not used to having people in my life.” He sniffed and fixed his eyes on the edge of the brown paper bag as he fiddled with the corner of it. “I think I’m going to miss you, Tony,” he said quietly.

He sensed Tony move and then watched as Tony set the other half of his thick, meaty sandwich in front of Kieran. He let out a quiet, watery laugh.

“Thank you for letting me keep your comics.”
“Sure thing.”
O
RIGINALLY, he hadn’t intended to turn up at the restaurant, as his father had requested, for a pre-graduation dinner, but after speaking to Tony, he put his thinking cap on and told himself to grow up. He may not be as close to his dad as he used to be, but they were the only

family either of them had, and throwing that away in a tantrum of hurt feelings seemed ridiculous. He was still no closer to knowing what it was he was going to do, but he at least knew he had to include his dad in the decision, instead of merely informing him of his plans.

All his good intentions and open-mindedness were quickly beginning to lose significance however, as he sat in a booth, waiting for his dad to appear from his office. He passed the time by watching the waitresses, wondering which one was his father’s girlfriend and unable to picture his dad with any of them. He was hungry as hell, and the restaurant wasn’t even that busy—in fact, it was winding down—but he thought he should wait for his dad before he ordered. He watched as one of the waitresses—Sally, if he remembered correctly (it had been a while since he’d seen or spoken to any of the staff)—passed by and did a quick double take. He smiled at her.

“Hi, Sally.”

“Kieran!” She came to stand next to him, resting an empty tray against her hip. “Look at you; you must have grown five inches since the last time I saw you!”

He grinned. “Probably, yeah.”
“Well, stand up and give me a hug, you!”

He was surprised, but stood and then laughed quietly when he was pulled into a warm hug and had his hair ruffled.

 

“Look at you, all handsome and grown up. Are you ready for tomorrow?”

 

He blinked. “Um, tomorrow? You mean graduation?”

“Well, yes, silly. Your dad doesn’t talk about anything else these days.” She playfully swatted him with a pristine white napkin kept tucked into her belt against her hip.
“He… really?”

She rolled her eyes. “Must be a male thing. I swear, you’re all clueless.”

“Just him,” he joked.
“Do you want something to eat while you’re waiting, honey?” “Um, no. I should probably wait for him.”

“I think he’s going over the books. He may be a while; does he know you’re here?”

He couldn’t help but stare at her for a moment as it dawned on him that his dad had most likely
forgotten
they were having dinner. He slid out of the booth. “Actually, I think I’ll go find him.”

“Okay, well, I have to get back to it.” She gestured over to patrons sitting in discussion at the other end of the floor. “It was good to see you, Kier.”

“You too, Sally.”

He was pissed. Too pissed to remember that just moments ago he felt pleased at the thought of his dad talking about him at work. It had been a while since he’d been up to his dad’s office, but when he knocked and then opened the door, it was like going back in time. His dad wasn’t there, but the computer screen was lit up. He took a quick glance and saw an open spreadsheet with lists of dates and figures that looked just plain confusing. He threw himself into the chair opposite the desk, and his eye caught on a photo frame. He leaned forward to turn it and then picked it up, handling it with care.

It was a picture of the two of them, taken here at the restaurant. He was sitting on his dad’s lap, leaning across the table to blow out the five candles on his birthday cake. His dad looked so happy, smiling down at him like that. It made him wonder just what the hell had gone wrong between them and whether he was a rotten son.

“Kier,” his dad said with obvious surprise, a hesitant smile forming. “What are you doing up here? Come to see how this place runs?”

He put the photo frame back where he found it and slouched back in the chair. “No. Where were you?”

His dad sat down behind the desk, still looking pleased and for now ignoring the computer screen. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “I was in the bathroom.”

Kieran closed his eyes with frustration and let out a small sigh, counting to five in his head. “No, Dad. Where were you? I’ve been sitting down there waiting for you.”

His dad looked confused for nearly two seconds before he sucked in a quick breath and his shoulders slumped, a palm going to his forehead. “Our pre-graduation dinner, dammit!”

Kieran very nearly smiled. He couldn’t help it. His dad had always been the kind of father who could make him giggle as a child by pulling faces or doing silly voices for the shadow puppets he made on walls. But Kieran wasn’t a child anymore, and he was yet again a second thought.

“I’m so sorry, Kier. I was just checking supplies and going through the numbers and got completely distracted.” He looked at his watch. “The kitchen’s still open….” He began to rise. “Let’s go have our dinner.”

“Or we could just talk.”
“We can talk over dinner. Come on.”
“No.”

His dad paused, finally taking note of whatever it was he could see in his son’s eyes or hear in his voice. “No?” he repeated. “Let’s talk here.”

His dad sat back down in his chair, wet his lip and then nodded. “Let me close all this up.” He turned to his computer screen and began clicking and probably saving what he was working on. But Kieran took it as a positive—that he would have his father’s full attention for this. When the screen went dark, they faced each other in the small, quiet office.

“So…,” his father began, looking nervous as hell but completely present.

Kieran scratched the side of his neck nervously, feeling that somehow, this would be the conversation that would settle things between them for better or worse. He told himself to be an adult, that he wasn’t allowed to storm out like he had every other time, and that what Tony said was true. People were important.

“How’d things get so bad between us, dad?”
“I… they’re not
that
bad, surely?” he asked quietly, sadly.

“Considering that you’re the only family I have and we say only a few words a day to each other? Yeah, it’s bad.” He saw his dad’s face fall and swallowed hard. He leaned forward in his seat slightly. “I’m not saying that to make you feel bad. I was just… I was lonely, dad. I was having a rough time at school and you kind of made me feel like you didn’t want to know me either.”

“That is
not
true.”

“Then what happened?” He lifted one shoulder, forcing himself to keep his voice even though it so wanted to crack and make him sound as vulnerable as he actually felt.