The New Kid

Ten minutes late. Shit.

You'd think that wouldn't be such a problem, since I was only headed to the cafeteria for lunch, but you don't know what my school is like. It's either be there when the bell rings, or good luck finding a seat. The idiots who created the schedules around here don't know what they're doing, and so it seems that they've put far too many students into this one lunch period. Just this lunch period, which also happens to be mine. Figures.

Ten minutes late, all because of my maths teacher (when do we really use sine and cosine in life?). I was definitely going to be eating outside. At least it was still relatively warm today, the autumn air a bit cool, but manageable.

It took another five minutes to actually get my food. Having to navigate through the maze of chairs to find the exit, I was deathly afraid of someone sitting back in the chair and bumping into me, making me drop my tray. I've maneuvered around this place enough times to know how to dodge tables and chairs successfully, though.

About ten feet away from the doors, my eyes caught a glimpse of something- an empty seat. Could it really be? I stopped and started walking in that direction just in case, because if it really was an empty seat then there wouldn't be much time left before someone else took it.

“Excuse me,” I said to the curly-haired kid sitting next to what really was an empty seat. He looked up at me, and for a second I was shocked by just how blue his eyes were. But I quickly regained my thoughts, and continued, “Is anyone sitting here?”

“No,” he answered in a deep and quiet voice. I wondered briefly how I had never seen this kid before.

“Well, do you mind if I sit here?”

“Go ahead,” he said with a shrug. It seemed like a nice gesture, but he only sounded apathetic. If I had had any other choice, I wouldn't have sat with him. But I didn't, so I set my tray down on the table and took the chair.

It really started to bother me that I didn't know this kid. Every other face in the overcrowded room was familiar to me but this one, and it was almost like my special thing was being taken away from me. I decided to get to the bottom of things.

“How come I haven't seen you around here before?” I asked him. He looked at me blankly at first, then as if I should have known everything about him.

“I... just moved here. This is my first day,” he replied, and I felt bad for some reason. I've only ever gone to one school my entire life, so I can only imagine how hard it must be to be thrust into a jungle of teenagers with no clue who's who or what's what. I smiled at him.

“Welcome to the jungle, then. I'm Jonny.”

“I'm Chris,” he softly said, then he turned away and looked down at the table. In front of him was a container of salad, something I assume he brought from home, because they never give us any healthy food at my school.

“Good choice,” I told him, pointing to the salad. “The food here is awful.”

“Oh. Yeah, I...” Chris flicked through the lettuce with his fork. He did not seem like a happy kid at all. Why was I even talking to him? “Well, I'm not really allowed to eat anything unless my mum okays it first.”

“That's rough. How old are you?”

“I'm seventeen,” he said, and it sounded like he was offended. I felt bad again.

“Is your mum, like, really controlling, then?” He looked up at me, a hint of anger still splashed across his face, but it soon faded. Instead of answering, he just nodded his head. “Well, at least she cares.”

And that was where the conversation died. But I did see Chris in several of my other classes, and he and I talked some more.

It turns out that Chris was the oldest of five, the first-born son to a pair of middle-aged, not-so-wealthy, but generally nice people. Chris's mum liked to keep tabs on him at all times, so even during school he would have to call her to check in.

I got to listen to one of the calls as he and I were walking down the hallway. It involved a lot of “Uh huh”s and “I'm fine”s. It must be a total drag having to do that several times every single day. I did not envy him.

The next day he wasn't in school, but I didn't think much of it. I felt strangely lonely, though, despite the fact that he and I had only met the day before, and I had plenty of other friends- people I had known since I was a baby- who were actually there. It just wasn't the same, I guess. I had wanted to find out more about him.

The day after that he was there. I discovered that he was actually in a few of my classes earlier in the day as well. Chris told me that he'd had a doctor's appointment in some city quite a long distance from here, which was the cause of his absence.

“How was it?” I asked him. He looked a little surprised at first, like why would I care? But eventually he decided to tell me.

“It was... all right,” he said. “You know, I'm doing pretty well. My mum was very pleased,” he added with a laugh. I smiled back at him, though before long he was frowning again. It made me want to cringe. “You know, she's still... um... well, she still worries. It's nothing new.”

-

“You're failing, Jon,” she said, her hands clasped on the desk in front of her. As if I didn't already know that.

“What's your point?” I muttered. School had ended already, at least five minutes ago. I shouldn't have been there.

“My point, Jon,” she began, throwing my name in yet again because it has that much more of an effect on me, “is that you need to start working harder, applying yourself, because if you don't pass this quarter it's a sure-fire bet that you won't survive the rest of the year, and you need this class to graduate. You do intend on graduating, don't you?”

“Yeah.” I hate it when adults pull that kind of thing. Of course I intend on graduating. Who doesn't?

“Then I suggest you get your act together.” She looked at me pointedly for a few moments, lips pursed. She could tell that I was starting to feel bad.

It's not that I cared about maths. In fact, I couldn't care less about maths. But, as much as I hated to admit it, even to myself, Mrs. Lee had gotten to me with that graduation bit. First of all, I would have despised being forced to return to this bloody building for another year, but most importantly- well, I couldn't let my parents down like that.

My father was a businessman, usually away on some trip, and so he never really knew what was going on in my life. It had always been that way for me. He would definitely be really pissed if I was held back. My mother, on the other hand, basically raised me herself, with pretty much the only help from my father being money. I couldn't say the same, but I know that I was probably the most important thing in the world to her. She would just be absolutely devastated, and there was no way that I could do that to her.

“Yes, ma'am,” I said to Mrs. Lee, and I shifted on my feet a bit. I really wanted to leave. She sat back in her chair a little, and I could tell that the meeting was at least close to ending.

“I think it might be best for you to stay for extra help, until you bring your grade up. Starting tomorrow, shall we say? Does that sound good to you?”

There really was nothing else I could say in response to her, so I agreed. Another hour of my day wasted. At least it's better than a year.

“Please, Jon,” she said to me as her finals words before my departure. “I know you're not a stupid kid. You just need to start caring a little.”

I wasn't going to let her know it, but she was definitely right. Or maybe she did know. Maybe she could see right through me. She had been teaching for thirty years, after all. I'm sure she had dealt with plenty of other students like me.

Only one minute later I was out of that room, bolting down the hallway towards my locker. I hadn't gotten the chance to stop there before I went to see Mrs. Lee. I threw all my books in and left (I didn't take anything home, because I knew I wasn't going to do my homework anyway), heading as quickly as I could for the doors. I had it running through my head that my mum had probably been waiting for a while for me, and she would ask what the hold up was about, and I would have to either tell her the awful truth- which I would actually have to do anyway, since she would want to know what I had to start staying after for- or lie to her. And it is physically impossible for me to lie to my mum.

I walked outside of the school and looked for my ride home. A few feet away I noticed Chris, sitting with his head resting in his hand. That's what it looked like, anyway. Since I hadn't found my mum yet, and I could have used a distraction from all the stress in my life, I decided to sit with him.

“Hey.” He looked up at me, his fingers lingering over a small area of his neck.

“Hey,” he repeated with a smile. He dropped his arm down into his lap.

“So, what are you doing down here?” I asked him. He frowned at me for a few seconds, then waved his hand in the air.

“Oh, I just needed to rest.” He shrugged his shoulders. “So I sat down.”

“Are you waiting for your parents or something?”

“No. I'm walking home,” he breezily said. His eyes diverted my gaze, almost like there was something he wasn't telling me. I'm sure there was lots that he wasn't telling me; we had only met a few days prior, after all.

“Your mum is all right with you walking home?” I asked, a tad incredulous. “She doesn't, like, freak about it?”

Chris laughed a little. “No, actually, it's one of the only things she thinks is safe for me.”

At that moment I thought that his mum must have been crazy, but of course I didn't tell him that. I didn't say anything, actually, because my own mother had pulled up alongside us before I got the chance.

It must have shown on my face that I had to leave, because Chris smiled at me and said, “See you tomorrow.”

I smiled back, but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to use words. It felt like I had stopped breathing for a while, though I was certain that my lungs had been hard at work as always. I slid into my mum's car, and as we pulled away I looked back at Chris. He had returned his hand to his neck, staring down at the pavement with a bored expression. I kinda wished he had looked up at me.

-

My mum had kindly informed me that I would not be able to get a ride home from her after school the next day, because she had something else to do at that time. I didn't bother asking what, because I didn't feel like there was a purpose in asking. It wouldn't have changed anything.

I just shrugged, said, “OK,” and went off into my room. It was pretty late, and I had nothing better to do, so I decided to just go to sleep. I laid my head against the pillow and closed my eyes, but my brain just wouldn't stop working. I kept thinking about earlier that afternoon, sitting outside of the school, and the image of Chris smiling was burned into my eyelids, no matter how many times I tried to think of something else.

Then it wasn't just his smile, but his long, elegant fingers lightly brushing against the smooth skin stretched over his graceful neck. That look in his bright blue eyes (I swear it wasn't there when I was actually living the moment, but then again, it had to be, why would I imagine something like that?) made my insides twist. It all seemed too real, yet so far from reality. Chris never looked at me like that.

I woke up the next morning feeling very odd. I must have stopped thinking about Chris long enough to fall asleep, but then I thought about it, and I remembered there being an awful lot of Chris in my dreams. Or maybe it was only one long dream. I forgot every detail about it apart from Chris's grinning visage. And hands, there was something about hands.

But I didn't bother trying to recollect anything else. I didn't feel right. Even my mum noticed.

“What's wrong, button?” she asked, waving her hand in front of my face as she leaned across the table. I pulled my focus back to the table, where I noticed that my hand was tightly grasping the fork that was still stabbed into the eggs on my plate. I didn't feel much like eating.

“I don't know,” I said. I set the fork down and crossed my arms over my stomach. It wasn't nausea, just an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. And in my chest.

My mum swooped around the table, and seconds later I felt her hand over my forehead. “Are you sick?”

“I don't think so. I'm just... I don't know.” I shrugged, my arms still wrapped around my abdomen. “I guess I just had a really weird dream or something, but I can't remember it.”

“All right, well, you just take it easy, OK?” Her hand ruffled my hair, but almost immediately smoothed it down afterward. Then she walked away, towards the door, and she grabbed her keys off the hook on the wall. “I should be back around six tonight, in time to make dinner. All right?”

“Yeah, that's fine.”

“Have a good day, button. I love you,” she said with her one hand on the doorknob, and the other she used to blow a kiss.

“I love you, too, mum.” She smiled and left, making sure to close the door tight behind her. I sighed and left for the other room. There was no point in even trying to eat anything, and anyway I had to get ready for school.

All day I was wishing that I could have been at home. It was especially bad whenever I saw Chris, which was quite often. Well, when I saw him I didn't mind being where I was, but the feeling was much worse, much stronger.

Although time had crawled by, the end of the day arrived surprisingly quick. I was so glad to be done with Mrs. Lee and all of her overbearing teaching.

With a lack of a ride home, I was forced to walk. As I watched my feet glide along the pavement of the back roads without sidewalks, I thought about Chris again and how he had walked home the day before. I wondered if that was normal for him, to just walk home everyday. And I wondered how far away he lived. It must have been tiring.

Almost as if he could hear my thoughts, I looked up and suddenly Chris was there. He was just there, standing completely still on the edge of the road, eyes closed. It was a bit strange, I thought.

“Your mum let's you hang out around these parts?” I called to him. He opened his eyes and looked up at me, a bit confused. So, I decided to explain further. “I mean, this isn't exactly the nicest neighborhood.”

In fact, it was one of- if not the worst neighborhood in town. There were always at least one or two crimes a month, sometimes a week. And I swear, someone was murdered there once. If Chris's mum was so overprotective, I'd have thought she wouldn't let him out of the house at all, let alone allow him to wander through such dangerous turf.

Then, for a few agonizing seconds, he looked at me with an almost hurt expression. I worried that I had done something wrong, and my suspicions were confirmed when he lifted his arm, pointed ashamedly to the rundown building behind him, and said in a low voice, “This is my house.”

Realizing that I seemed to have offended him, I fumbled for an apology. The words were there, right in my head- Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean- but instead I just acted apathetic, almost. “Oh. Cool.”

Chris appeared to be skeptical of my reaction, but eventually he just accepted it. “Yeah, it's cool all right... Do you wanna... come inside, hang out or whatever?” He shrugged a shoulder, twisted his mouth up and stared at the ground. And there was that weird sensation again.

“Yeah, sure.” I'd basically forgotten about going home, but my mum wouldn't even have been there for another few hours anyway. He smiled at me, turned around, and lead me across the overgrown lawn and into his house.

-

“Chris, you're back inside already?” a gentle, womanly voice called from the other room as Chris and I walked over the threshold. Within seconds the source of the voice was hovering over Chris, and the resemblance between the two gave me the impression that this must be his mother. She certainly did seem protective.

“Yeah, well, Jonny's here,” Chris gestured to me, “and I thought he might like to come inside for a bit. If that's all right,” he quietly added.

“It's all right as long as you're OK, dear,” she said. She lifted her hand and placed her palm against Chris's cheek. “You look a little pale.”

“I'm just a little tired,” Chris nonchalantly said. “But I'm OK.”

“You took your pills?” she asked him, and he nodded. She frowned at him a little. I felt strangely out of place (or maybe it wasn't so strange). And I also kinda wished that her hand was mine. What was wrong with me? “Maybe you should go have a lie down, dear. Just rest for a bit.”

“Yes, mum.” She smiled halfheartedly, leaned forward to place a kiss on his forehead, then left. It was almost sweet that she cared for him so much.

Chris and I went into his room, where he proceeded to lie on his bed, and I sat in a chair that had been carelessly shoved into the corner. Of course, I moved it so I was sitting closer to him.

“So, Jonny,” he began, his head resting on his arms, “tell me something.”

“What do you want to know?” I asked.

“Anything,” Chris replied. “Everything. I want to know everything about you. Start with the day you were born. You probably don't remember that. Start with the first birthday you can remember.”

I laughed a little, for no real reason, and nodded my head. “All right. I think... my fifth birthday is the first one I can remember. But I'm not sure... that's the one I'll tell you about, at least. So, it was my birthday, which is conveniently also my parent's anniversary. My dad was home- he's usually out on business trips- though I really think he was home for the anniversary and not my birthday. But he was still there either way.”

It all came flooding back to me, as if I were living the entire thing again. I was so small back then. I could remember waking up to what seemed like an empty house. I walked into my parents room first, eager to open my presents, and no one was there. Then I went to the living room, and again nothing. Ten minutes later, I still couldn't find my parents. I almost started panicking.

But then I looked out in the yard, and they were out there, standing around a giant box. I threw open the front door and bolted towards them. They must have noticed, because they started laughing, and my mum picked me up as I ran by and she set me on top of the box.

“How do you like your present, button?” she asked, the smile still stretched wide across her face. “The cardboard's pretty sturdy, so it should last you a while.”

“Mum!!!” I yelled, and she tried to look serious.

“What?”

“You can't just get me a box for my birthday!!”

“Actually, kiddo, we can,” my dad said. “And we did.”

I narrowed my eyes at them, folded my arms across my chest in the pouting sort of way that little kids do. For a while we stayed like that, my parents staring at me and trying to act oblivious. Then my dad finally rolled his eyes.

“I suppose you could have a look inside of the box, if you really want,” he said. I reached my arms out excitedly, and he grabbed me and set me back on the ground. Then I turned and jumped on the box and tried to rip it open, but it didn't work because the flaps were taped down, and I could hardly reach the top of it anyway.

My dad told me to calm down, but of course I was going to do everything but that. He opened the box for me, but I couldn't see inside of it because I was so small.

“Oh, yeah, there's nothing in here,” he said, shaking his head. I actually got pretty angry at that point. I demanded to see for myself, and so my dad picked me up and held me over the top.

“That's not empty!!!!” I shouted. Inside of the box was a shiny, brand-new black and blue bicycle. I was so excited. My parents laughed again, but I ignored them. All I could think about was that bike, and how awesome my life had just become.

“Of course, I didn't actually learn to ride the bike without training wheels until I was eight,” I told Chris. “But I was still so happy about it. My mum had told me that it was my dad's idea...”

As a bolt of sadness suddenly shot through me, I looked up to see that Chris's eyes were closed, his chest steadily rising and falling. I smiled in spite of myself and decided that it was probably time for me to go home.

Chris's mum was in the kitchen when I walked through. She looked up at me and smiled.

“Hey... Jonny, right?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Uh, Chris is asleep now, so I'm just gonna... be heading home.”

“Oh, all right,” she said. “Thank you, Jonny. And have a lovely evening.”

“You too.” I smiled back at her, then walked away. Before I left, I got to thinking that if I had someone as special as Chris, I would probably do as much as I could to protect him, too. But I shook my head- what the hell was I thinking?

-

Every day for the next week I walked home after school, because every day my mum had other things to do. I had a sneaking suspicions that those things may have been... well, people, but I tried not to dwell on it too much.

As a result, I often ended up just hanging out with Chris until it was time to return home. We mostly just sat in his yard and talked, which was nice. Towards the end of the week, I actually started to look forward to spending time with him.

“Hi, Jonny,” he said as I walked nearer, almost like he had been expecting me. Maybe he had been. The thought of him waiting for me gave me that weird feeling again. It had been happening even more often nowadays.

“Hi, Chris,” I replied. He walked over to where I was, grinning from ear to ear, and I had half a mind to grab him right then and-

“How was studying?” he asked, stopped a few feet in front of me. I tried to focus, looked at the ground, and shrugged.

“You know, same as always.”

“Boring as hell?” Chris asked, with a hint of laughter in his voice. I smiled and looked up at him.

“Yeah.” Then suddenly I had developed a plan, and I was silently deciding whether or not to execute it. That was when my vocal chords took over. “Do you wanna go for a walk?”

“Sure,” Chris replied as he nodded his head. “Where to?”

Even though I did have it all planned out, I thought for a few seconds. It was not only to give the illusion that I was coming up with this as I went along, but also to try to convince myself not to go through with this. I had to stop acting so strange all the time.

“Follow me,” I said, unable to hold myself back. I started walking past Chris, though he was right beside me the entire way. There was this really nice overlook sort of thing not too far from Chris's house that I had gone to almost every day of the last summer. It was really beautiful; Chris would definitely love it.

It took a few minutes to walk just to the beginning of the trail at the side of the road. It wasn't really much of a trail, though, because about five feet in, there was a cliff that would nearly have prevented anyone from going any further. But I had climbed it plenty of times, and it really wasn't that difficult. With Chris standing just behind me, I reached out to grab onto a bit of jutting rock and lifted my foot onto one of the lower rocks.

“Wait, Jonny,” Chris said. I let go of the rocks and turned around to see Chris looking up with a very scared expression. “How are we gonna get up there?”

“Well, we have to climb,” I told him. “It's not really hard, though, and I can stay back and let you go first, if you want.”

Chris shook his head. “I-I can't.”

“What?” I think I laughed a little, which I immediately felt bad about. “It's just a-”

“Jonny, you don't understand,” he said pressingly, with his hand over his chest and a most apologetic look on his face, “I can't. I'm sorry.”

I took a few steps closer to him, and in a reassuring tone said, “Hey, it's OK.” He looked up at me, and I could tell that he really did feel bad about it.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I know somewhere else we could go.”

“All right.” He smiled knowing that he hadn't exactly ruined my plans, though as we began walking away I realized that my plans definitely couldn't work now. The overlook would have been so perfect, and I was definitely a pro at climbing up that cliff- but why was I trying to impress Chris? That's just ridiculous.

Another few minutes down the road, we came upon another trail. Although it was pretty narrow, I opted to walk alongside Chris rather than behind him for some reason. Every now and then I would kinda bump into him or brush up against his arm. He didn't seem to mind.

Then he abruptly stopped walking, and I almost ran into him again. He held out his arms and said, “This is it.”

I realized then that my eyes had been glued to the back of his neck. I pulled them away and looked around; it was actually even nicer than the overlook. We were standing on the rocky shore of a small lake, surrounded my giant, towering trees and a few bushes here and there. Chris started walking again, towards a few larger rocks with smooth tops, perfect for sitting. I was sat down beside him in an instant, and as he turned and noticed that I was so close he smiled. It was only a brief smile, but it was... nice.

“I walk here a lot,” Chris said, staring out into the lake. “I mean, I've only lived around here for a few weeks, but I think I've spent most of that time here. And in school, of course. And in my room,” he quietly added.

“It's really tough, huh? That your mum is so overprotective,” I said. Chris looked over at me with an expression of concern, but all I was really paying attention to was how blue his eyes were. They were really blue.

“That's actually, um, something I wanted to talk to you about.” I raised my eyebrows in response, because I honestly wasn't paying attention well enough to vocalize a proper reply. It was like I was in some sort of trance, and it felt weird, but almost exciting at the same time. Seriously, what was wrong with me? “Uh...”

Chris stood up and took a few steps, facing the lake. I quickly followed him. “What is it?”

Chris sighed, then turned to me. I stood still, waiting for Chris to tell me whatever it was that he had to say.

-

Chris was silent for quite a long time. I could see his eyes start to water, his eyebrows tightly drawn together. I grew almost afraid of what he was going to tell me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his hand move. I kept my gaze on his face, but I couldn't help noticing when he started to lift his shirt. My heart started to beat a little faster; it must have been from the fear. I was definitely afraid that something was seriously wrong.

Then he was watching me cautiously, standing there with his bare torso exposed. I quickly looked down at the shirt in his hand, then back up his chest. Right in the middle was a long line, a scar. I stared at it for what was probably a really long time before my brain started to work.

“Chris...” I had no idea how to finish, or even really start the statement or question or whatever it was supposed to be, but our eyes met again, and Chris seemed to know what I was thinking. He looked rather uncomfortable and self-conscious, though I couldn't say I blamed him.

“Ever since I was born, I've had heart p-problems,” he said. “For most of my life, I've been able to just control it with meds.”

I wanted to say something, anything, but I was totally speechless. It was almost unfair that this had happened to him, to Chris, the nicest person I had ever known apart from my mum. I wanted to throw my head back and scream “NO!” into the air, I wanted to find some way to make him better, but as I watched him pull another shaky breath into his lungs, I realized that all I really wanted to do was-

“But about six months ago I had to have surgery. It wasn't exactly bad, but... you know, my mum will let me do even less now. Which is understandable,” he quietly said. For a few minutes I tried to think of how exactly to react. My mind was like a jumbled mess right now.

“Is that why you couldn't... you know, before, with the rocks?” I finally asked. I felt like it was a stupid question with a pretty obvious answer, but it was the best I could come up with.

“Yeah. It's actually also why we moved here.” Chris lowered his head, and subsequently his voice. “We weren't exactly poor, but my parents had to pay for the surgery themselves, and even with both of them working it was too much. So they sold our house, and we moved to the cardboard box we live in now.”

He sounded ashamed, like he thought it was his fault or something. I wanted to reach out, pull him close and tell him that it was OK, but I couldn't move. “How come you never said anything before?”

Chris looked up at me and shook his head. “I realized when we moved here that I could start clean. No one would ever know unless I told them. It was a nice thought, because it seems like whenever anyone finds out all they want to do is tell me to take it easy and ask what they can do for me.” Chris held up his shirt-free hand. “Don't get me wrong, I appreciate that people are so willing to help me, I just wish that I didn't need them to, you know?”

“I understand,” I said, even though I knew I couldn't possibly begin to understand what a life such as that was like. I'm not sure that either of us moved, but somehow it seemed like we were closer than we were before. Without even thinking, I raised my hand, and words just spilled from my mouth. “Do you mind i-if I...”

“Go ahead,” Chris said, as if my request wasn't absolutely the weirdest thing ever. Then I thought that maybe none of my feelings had been so weird. Chris was certainly acting like it was normal.

So I ran my fingers gently down the scar on Chris's chest. It was rough, but the skin around it was so smooth. Though I was watching my hand trail down Chris's skin, I could feel his eyes attached to me. Eventually the scar ended, but like some sort of machine the electricity in my fingers kept my hand going, down Chris's abdomen and over his rib cage.

Then my hand was on his back, bringing him closer, and his arms were draped around my shoulders. Our lips met somewhere in the middle, and though I hadn't had much experience in this sort of area, it all seemed so natural. My heart practically exploded in my chest as I felt Chris's tongue with my own, and after a short while it was obvious that the same had happened to him.

It was almost like a stabbing sort of pain that I experienced when Chris pulled away rather quickly. But I soon realized what was happening, Chris before me, panting with his eyes closed.

“Jonny-” he said, but suddenly whatever he was going to say was overthrown by a bout of anger. His eyes flew open, irises now a scary dark blue, and as he fumbled for words to express his frustration he threw his shirt to the ground. He himself soon followed, as he buckled his legs and buried his head in his hands as he sat on the rocky surface of the ground.

I sat down beside him, and moments later he lifted his head, laying two fingers over a spot on his neck. I realized then that he must have been taking his pulse. Although I knew that it could potentially be more harm than help, I slid my hand to Chris's back in an attempt to comfort him. He immediately complied, leaning into my chest and laying his head on my shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” he tiredly whispered. I took my other hand and ran it through the curls resting at the top of his head.

“Don't be,” I told him. At that moment I nearly hated myself for pretending that I didn't have rather strong feelings for Chris, because not only did I think he could have used someone in the position that I was now to fill, but also because even after a few minutes I had never really been happy like this before in any of my seventeen years on this planet. I couldn't believe I had been missing out for nothing.

-

“My mum's gonna know,” Chris suddenly said. We were holding hands as we walked towards his house, and I had a feeling that his fingers were squeezed tighter than mine were. He was still rather tense. “If she doesn't already know.”

“You think she would already know?” I asked. Sure, his mum had seemed to be quite... intuitive, but it sounded a bit far-fetched. Chris ducked his head a little, no doubt blushing.

“I talked to my sister about you a few days ago,” he sheepishly replied. “She's a good kid, but she sometimes has a big mouth.” Something about the idea of Chris liking me enough to talk to someone else about it, someone he wasn't even sure he could trust entirely, made me feel very warm and I cracked a smile.

“If she does know, maybe it won't be so bad,” I suggested. “Because, you know, then obviously if she hasn't said anything to you there's nothing to worry about. Right?”

“I suppose.” I could see Chris turn his head towards me, and he just stared at me for a while. If it had been anyone else, I would have felt uncomfortable. I hate it when people stare at me. Then suddenly he smiled- beamed, actually, and I decided that I needed to see it, because his smile is just far too lovely to be missed. “I really like you, Jonny.”

“I really like you, too.” And neither of us said another word until we reached his house.

In the front yard, there was a girl standing, staring at the ground with a kickball in her hand, her long and curly hair flowing over her shoulders. She must have heard us walking, because she picked her head up and looked over in our direction. If she had kept her eyes on us long enough, I'd have probably flipped.

But she didn't; as soon as she saw us, her eyes lit up, and she ran towards the house at top speed, shouting, “CHRIS HAS A BOYFRIEND! CHRIS HAS A BOYFRIEND!”

“Anita!!” Chris shouted after her, but she ignored him and flung the front door open, still screaming. It was hard to tell whether he was angry or embarrassed, at least it was at first. When I looked at him again he was definitely more embarrassed, his cheeks bright red, but his heavy breath was starting to come back. Even through just his fingers I could feel that his pulse was a bit fast.

Chris started to walk away a little, but our hands were still together and so he ended up pulling me along. Once he reached the edge of the sidewalk he sat down, like I had seen him do outside of the school several times.

“See? I told you she has a big mouth,” he said, breathily, but he laughed as well. He brought his other hand to our interlocked ones, just holding my hand in his for a while until we heard footsteps approaching.

I turned around to see the most identical group of people I had ever seen in my life. There were four of them, and they all had the same light-colored, curly hair, and big eyes, all of which were pointed at Chris and myself. The tallest one was a girl, the same girl who had been standing in the yard, and she was now standing in front of us, turned to the other children and grinning smugly.

“I told you so!” she said to the other children, who all gasped and oohed. “Chrissy has a boyfriend!”

“Ooh, he is cute!” the other girl said (she couldn't have been more than eight years old), walking around to my side. I looked at Chris helplessly, and he just gave me the same look in return. Then he turned to face his brothers and sisters.

“Guys, does this look like a sideshow to you? Go back inside,” he commanded. The three younger children huffed, but they all did as they were told and walked away. Anita stayed behind.

“You can't tell me what to do, Chris, you're not my mother or anything,” she said to him. Chris rolled his eyes, and suddenly Anita looked as though she'd been hit with an idea. “Speaking of mum...”

She ran away again, and as I turned to Chris I thought I saw an envious look flash across his face for a few seconds. Then he nervously smiled and said, “I guess we will see what my mum thinks, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said. Chris bit his lip and anxiously watched his house. After a few seconds, something inside of me brought my hand up to his chin and pulled him in a bit, and I figured that I might as well keep it going and kiss him. It didn't last long, because I didn't want the same thing to happen that had happened by the lake.

Chris took one of his hands and curled his fingers around my neck, pressing our foreheads together. He smiled, and for a few seconds we stayed like that, until his mother stopped behind us and cleared her throat. I had expected Chris to look up at her, but he didn't; instead, he pulled back, but not too far, and as he hand released from my neck, he tapped my nose with his finger.

“Hi, mum,” he said, shifting only his eyes to the side.

“Hello, Chris,” she responded, not sounding too enthused. “Would you boys like to come inside for a few minutes?”

I immediately hopped to my feet, helping Chris get up as well, even if maybe he didn't really need help. We followed his mum inside the house, past various rooms, and into the kitchen. The three of us sat down at the small table in the room, Chris and I on one side and his mum on the other. She stared at us thoughtfully for a few moments before she finally spoke.

-

“Chris, I want you to be happy,” his mother said. “All I have ever wanted was for you to be happy, and healthy.” She paused, took a deep breath. “And so I need to know that you can handle this. I personally have no problem with the two of you dating or whatever, and I'm sure your father won't mind either. I am worried about other people- people at your school, for example. You know they won't take to this kindly.”

Chris turned to me, looking very apprehensive. “I didn't think about that.”

“You think people are gonna say shit to us? Oh, sorry,” I said to his mum as I realized that I had just cursed. And, of course, I had to be the perfect gentleman and impress her, otherwise she might not be too keen to let us be together.

“People might do more than just say things to you,” she said. “And I don't think Chris is in a condition where he can deal with it.”

“We don't have to tell people,” Chris said, still looking at me. “At school, they don't have to know. Right?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don't really care who knows,” I replied, “but if it makes this easier... Yeah.”

“Well then it's settled!” Chris beamed. He threw his hands up and turned to his mother. “We're not going to tell anyone. There won't be anything to deal with.”

“And I certainly hope it's that easy for you,” she said to him. Clearly she was not as enthused about the idea as he was. But she seemed to agree. My eyes wandered around the room and I suddenly realized, upon gazing at the clock, that I needed to return home.

“Hey, Chris, I've got to go now,” I said to him. For a few seconds he looked sad, but then he quickly smiled and leaned forward a bit.

“I'll miss you,” he whispered, then we shared a quick kiss and I stood up.

“I'll miss you, too,” I said. “Tomorrow morning, I'll walk with you to school.” Chris's eyes lit up and he nodded.

“Sounds great.” I smiled at him, then said goodbye once more and began to leave. Chris and his mother started talking again before I reached the door, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. Probably boring, family-related things. Or what they were having for dinner.

Then, as I walked down the side of the road, I thought about what my mum would be making, if she had even planned anything. It seemed like lately she had been too busy doing whatever else she was doing to care about home, or me. For the first time in my entire life, I felt like I was living completely on my own.

It made it easier to deal with everything knowing that I had Chris, even when we had been just friends. It was nice to know that I wasn't actually alone. And now that he had told me about his heart problems, it kinda put things in perspective for me. I could have had it a lot worse.

So my parents are unfaithful to each other and they neglect me. At least I'm alive and well.

I had been planning on my mother being home when I arrived. Yet, deep down I think I expected her not to be, and I was right. The house was completely silent when I walked in, and everything was turned off. I decided to make my own dinner, because I couldn't be sure when she would come home. I wasn't far from being an adult, anyway, so I figured that I should get used to doing things for myself. Of course, that was before I nearly burned the house down.

Luckily, I stopped the fire before it actually started spreading, and I certainly learned something from my experience; if you are boiling water and some spills over the side, it's not the end of the world, and you definitely shouldn't try drying the side of the pot off while the stove is still lit.

Roughly ten minutes later, I was seated at the kitchen table with a large bowl of spaghetti in front of me. Of course, I had to get up again because I had forgotten to grab a fork as well. I really hoped that I could get this stuff down in time.

After a few forkfuls of pasta were shoved into my mouth and down my esophagus, the door opened and my mum casually walked in. She set a few things down on the table and walked over to the stove.

“Sorry I was late- oh, you made dinner yourself, button?” She turned around; my mouth was still stuffed with food, so I just grunted my reply. “Well, aren't you a big boy now?”

“Yeah...”

I went back to eating, and I heard my mum sigh. Then she sat down across from me and stared. “Oh my, you really are, huh? You're going to be all grown-up soon.” She sounded like she was crying, or starting to. I didn't really feel like dealing with her.

“I have a boyfriend,” I told her, without looking up at all, though I could tell what her reaction was. She just sat there, her eyes opened a little wider than normal, her head tilted to the side. The look in her eyes said that she wasn't upset or anything, just a little thrown off. I quickly glanced up to see that I had been right. “His name is Chris.”

“Is that the boy you were telling me about the other day?” she calmly asked. “The one whose house you were at?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Maybe tomorrow you could meet him or something. If you come home in time.”

She frowned at me with sad eyes. I still felt just a little angry with her. “I would love to meet him.”

-

The air felt cold when I walked out of my house the following morning. It was not so surprising, since it was now autumn, and that's what usually happens around this time of year. It gets colder.

But this morning felt a little different. I wasn't sure quite how, but something lingered around and produced an eerie sort of mood. Maybe it was that for the first time in a while, my mum hadn't left before I had. She was still sitting at the table when I set off for school.

“Have a great day, button,” she smiled at me as I opened the door. I stood still for a while, not sure whether or not I wanted to acknowledge her. In the distance there was some sort of alarm ringing. It wasn't something that occurred very often, and it sounded really high-pitched and frighteningly urgent.

“I wonder what that is,” I dully said. I heard my mum stand up and walk behind me.

“Sounds like sirens,” she carelessly replied. “Did you hear me, button?”

“Yeah. You too, mum.”

“And don't forget to bring back that boy of yours, yeah? I want to make sure my son is in good hands,” she added, lightly patting me on the back. I turned to her, and I found myself wishing that I was five again, that my parents were both here and smiling and giving me presents. If we could have done it over again, maybe we'd be a better family- only, then I imagine I wouldn't be with Chris. Six of one, I suppose.

“I don't need anyone to take care of me,” I coldly told her, and with that I left. I didn't even bother to see what her reaction was.

It took roughly five minutes for me to have even one thought that was not even remotely related to my mum or my dad or anything like that. It's wasn't such an important thought- I had only wondered whether or not I had gym that day. I couldn't remember.

Then I went back to thinking about how my mum had stayed home. For a few brief moments I wanted to believe that everything had returned to normal, and that my mum would stop sneaking around with whoever, but I knew it wasn't true. My family would never be a regular and happy one, but that was just the way things were.

I was watching my feet as I walked, until I suddenly realized that I was drawing closer to Chris's house, and that the strangely high-pitched alarms my mum and I had heard earlier were louder now than ever before. I looked up, and my heart immediately sank.

Ambulances. Of course, that's where the sirens were coming from- one ambulance, actually, parked a bit down the road from where I stood. A few people in dark blue uniforms were pushing a stretcher through the back doors, and several feet away from them stood a woman, bawling her eyes out.

“Mrs. Martin?” I called out, my voice shaky and cracked. She looked up at me with bloodshot eyes, and I soon found myself pulled tightly in her embrace.

“Jonny, Jonny,” she repeated several times. “I tried to wake him up this morning, but he wouldn't... His heart was beating so fast, and I called them... Then they lost his pulse, they lost it!! But they... paddles... and they brought it back, they brought his heartbeat back and...”

“Excuse me, ma'am?” one of the paramedics yelled. I pulled back and faced the man myself. “If you're coming, we're leaving now.”

For a few seconds she gaped at them, then quickly turned to me. “Jonny, please, promise me you'll go to school and not worry. I'll contact you later.”

“All right,” I croaked, and I think even she knew that I was lying. There was now way for me to not think about this, and obviously it would be impossible not to worry once I thought about it. And as for going to school, well, all I really wanted to do was run home and cry. Tears were already running down my face more readily than they ever had before in my life.

And then I thought that it wouldn't have been such a bad idea. I waited until the ambulance pulled away, and then waited another few minutes just in case. Chris's dad came along in his car and picked up his other four children, then quickly drove off. We might have exchanged a few words, but I couldn't remember. Everything was hazy.

I blinked, and suddenly I was at my own front door. I hadn't expected my mum to still be there, but I turned around to see that her car was still in the driveway. There wasn't any time to lose.

“MUM!” I yelled as soon as I stepped inside. Within seconds she was in the room, a worried expression strewn across her face.

“What is it?” she asked, walking over to me as fast as possible.

“I need you to take me to the hospital.”

“Oh my, are you all right?” Her hands rested on my shoulders, and she started scanning my face, searching for some sort of injury. “What happened?”

“I-It's Chris,” I told her. “Chris is in the hospital, and I need to see him.”

“Well, what about school?” she asked in a dreadfully motherly tone. “Jonny, you can't just miss a day, you're already failing several of your classes-”

“Mum, please!!!” I begged, a fresh batch of tears leaking from my eyes. “Please. I need to know he's all right.”

I could see the pain in my mum's eyes as she looked at me. Slowly, she nodded her head. “I'll get the keys, you put your stuff in your room and go on out to the car.”

Then I ran to my room as quickly as my legs would carry me, and haphazardly threw my bag through the door, not caring where it landed or what it hit. I bolted outside. My mother was already sitting in the car, and if I had been the one driving I would have taken off before I even shut the door. But she waited until I had properly sat in, buckled the seat belt and everything.

The car couldn't seem to move fast enough, and I found myself anxiously and impatiently tapping my foot against the carpeted floors as we crawled our way down the road.

-

Chris's mum seemed to have forgotten what she asked me to do, because as soon as she saw me all she did was hug me again and tell me that she was glad I came. Maybe she had lost all sense of time and thought it was much later than it actually was. Either way, she didn't make a fuss of it.

“They admitted him,” she said to me and, to a lesser extent, my mum. “His brothers and sisters are in the room to see him now, but they'll be off to school soon. He's stable for now, that's what they said. But, um... he hasn't woken yet, and so... they told us that he has probably slipped into a coma.”

“Coma? How long will that last?” I asked her, and she shook her head.

“No idea. The doctors said he could be out of it in a few hours, or it could last weeks, even months.” Her voice cracked a little, and it looked like she was really struggling to fight back tears. She took a few steps back and sat down in the nearest chair.

“But he's OK?” I quickly turned to see my mum. She was staring back at me, her expression half worried and half reassuring. “He'll be OK...”

My mum put her hand on my shoulder, and Chris's mum spoke up again. “You can go see him next. Maybe if you talk to him he'll come out if it quicker,” she quietly laughed.

I smiled along with her, though we both knew neither of us felt the least bit happy. It did help a little. For another minute or two the three of us stood and waited. Then Chris's siblings walked up and said goodbye to their mother. Chris's father came up and hugged his wife, said hi to me and my mum. I wondered if he knew about me and Chris yet.

I walked away slowly towards Chris's room. I could hear my mum and his talking behind me. I don't know what they were talking about.

Through the glass in the door, I could see a tiny portion of his body, though it was mostly just his feet. It took me several moments to prepare myself before I felt anywhere near ready to open the door. I wanted to see Chris, I really did, but knowing that there wouldn't be much of an interaction between the two of us was quite heartbreaking. Not to mention, of course, that he almost...

I forced myself to push the door open. As soon as I stepped into the room I could see all of Chris. Unsurprisingly, he was laying on his back, his eyes closed. A lot of different machines beeped around him, all attached somehow to his body by one wire or another.

It made me feel a little better to see his chest steadily rising and falling. I began to make my way towards the upper half of his body. I could feel my palms becoming sweatier by the second, and the back of my neck felt a little moist as well.

For a few minutes, I just stood and stared at him. It was hard to believe less than twenty-four hours before, Chris had been perfectly fine. Now he was in the hospital and I felt like crying.

“Chris...” My voice was shaky, as was my hand when I reached out and brushed back some of his mini-curls. “I-I-I'm so glad that you're OK... but I am still really worried about you. I don't want anything to happen to you. I don't know what I would do if something worse did happen...”

I paused for a moment as I became aware of several tears dripping down my cheeks. I quickly wiped them away with the back of my hand.

“I wish you could say something to me right now. As silly as it sounds, I miss hearing your voice. You know, you can wake up anytime,” I said, a bit hopeful that somehow it would work, and Chris would open his eyes and smile at me. I thought I saw his mouth twitch a little, like he was trying to smile.

I moved a little closer to the bed, and then I figured I might as well just sit. So I sat down, careful not to hit Chris's arm or anything. He looked so beautiful, even though I had never thought of any guy as being beautiful before. There was just no other way to describe him.

“I don't know what else to say. Maybe there isn't anything else to say. Maybe I should just go back out and have my mum bring me to school late or whatever. Although, I'd much rather stay here with you. But you aren't going to wake up anytime soon, are you?

“I've heard before that coma patients can actually hear what's going on around them. I don't know how true that is, but I guess you can tell me when you come back. Or maybe you won't be able to remember. I would think that comas mess with your brain a bit, huh? You probably won't remember.”

I stared at Chris for another few minutes before I heard the door creak open. Then it closed again, and whoever had walked through was now making their way towards the bed.

“How are you doing, Jonny?”

“I'm all right,” I quietly said. I couldn't look away from Chris. My mum put her hand on my shoulder again. “Although this isn't really how I pictured you'd meet Chris.”

“Well, he seems very nice,” she said with a tiny bit of a laugh. “He certainly is a handsome boy. And his mother is nice, too. I was just having a chat with her, and she gave me the name of this place that does great Italian food. I know how you like pasta so much.”

“Yeah,” I pointlessly agreed.

“Maybe one day you and Chris could go there,” she suggested.

“Yeah.” I let my hand fall to my side, and I tried to stealthily grab Chris's hand. I didn't think I could take much more of staring at him. “One day.”

-

I was laying on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling in boredom, when suddenly the phone rang. My mum was home, but she was outside doing some yard work, so it was my duty to answer it. I checked the caller ID, and as soon as I recognized the number as Chris's mum's, my heart started to race.

“Hello?”

“Jonny, I'm so sorry to bother you,” Chris's mum began, “but I just thought you might want to know that... well, Chris just came out of the coma a few minutes ago. The doctor's in with him now, along with a few nurses. They're just doing some routine stuff, so whenever you want, you can come down and see him. I'm sure he would love it if you did.”

My heart continued to beat faster, but I could feel a sort of weight lift from my shoulders. I actually felt like jumping up and down. “Of course. Um... let me just go see if my mum can bring me. This is so great!”

“It really is. I hope you can make it. If you want, give me a call when you find out. Maybe I could come pick you up if your mother can't bring you.”

“That would be awesome, thank you. So, I guess I'll talk to you later, then.”

“Bye, Jonny.” I hung up the phone, my hand trembling, the excitement coursing through my veins. After one entire week, one agonizingly slow week, I was finally going to be able to talk to Chris, and he would be able to talk back.

I flew out of the house so fast that my mum probably thought I was being chased by something. She looked up alertly as I skidded to a halt in front of her.

“Chris is awake,” I breathed as quickly as possible. She smiled at me, and I felt as though her excitement just wasn't enough. “Can you please take me to see him?”

“All right, button. Give me a few minutes,” she said. I ran back inside and grabbed the car keys, and before she could even move from her spot, I was bolting towards the car. “Slow down, kid, he's not going anywhere.”

“You don't know that!” I almost literally hopped into the car, and waited for another five minutes or so for my mum to come back out. As it had done the first time my mum drove me to the hospital, time crawled by extraordinarily slow. It felt like hours before we finally got there.

And then the hallways in the hospital seemed endless. I didn't remember Chris's room being so many floors up. And so many doors down. There were hundreds of each, I swear.

I didn't hesitate to go into the room like I did last time. I was far too excited and I actually didn't even realized I had opened the door until I walked in and saw Chris. He was sitting up, and his youngest brother was sitting on the bed with him. His brother was chatting away, and Chris was staring at his legs but listening intently. I was so overwhelmed that I just stood and stared for a few minutes. I may have stopped breathing at some point.

Then his one sister, who I think was called Anita, leaned over and whispered something to him. His eyes bugged and he slowly lifted his head up. As soon as his eyes connected with mine, he smiled widely and I smiled right back.

“Hey, Jon,” he softly said. His brother seemed it a fit time to get off the bed, and he quickly moved to the side of the room by his mother.

“Hi, Chris,” I said, surprised to find that my voice was rather stable. I wasn't sure what to do next, so I just stood and stared some more.

“Kids, why don't we give these boys some privacy?” Chris's mum suggested. They all began to file out, one by one, and as Anita passed by she stopped in front of me for a few seconds.

“You two better not start kissing while we're gone,” she said. “Chris needs his rest, you know.”

I didn't get a chance to reply before she stalked off, but it wasn't as though I had anything to say anyway. Once they had all left, I realized that what I should have done next was walk up to Chris. So I did.

“So, how are you?” he asked me. I shrugged.

“I'm all right. It's hard to think right now, to be honest.” I stood a few feet away from the edge of the bed, but I tried to make myself take a step closer to Chris. A part of me was afraid that this was all just a dream, and once I got close enough to him, once I reached out and touched him, I would wake up.

“You're telling me,” he droned. He frowned a bit, then looked over at me. “Jonny, the doctor was talking to me earlier. He said while I was out, they did a few tests... He told me that I need a new heart.”

Chris's face seemed to have paled a bit. I finally found the courage to stand closer to him. Then I grabbed his hand and sat down beside him.

“You do, huh?” I asked in a gentle voice. Chris nodded.

“It's gonna be weird,” he quietly said. He lifted his free hand to his chest and kept it there for a bit. “I wonder if I'll feel different. I wonder...” He looked at me again, his eyes wrought with sadness, and he lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Jonny, what if it changes me?”

“Do you really think that's possible?” I asked.

“I hope not,” he said. “But I don't really know. I mean, if I get a new heart, I could be able to do a lot of things I've never done before. Maybe I'll end up becoming a different person.” He blinked hard, and as he did so a single tear dropped down his cheek. “I just don't want it to harm our relationship. I don't want you to hate me if I do change.”

It was painful to see Chris this way, almost as painful as watching him lay unconscious in a hospital bed, and I wondered just a little if he was this worried about how anyone else would think of him. I squeezed his hand tighter and leaned in a bit.

“Chris, I will never hate you,” I told him. “Even if you get a new heart, your soul will be the same. It will be just as beautiful as it is now. And you can't change that.”

-

I was walking to Chris's house. He had been out of the hospital for a few days, but I had been kinda too busy with schoolwork to see him. It felt like I was actually starting to improve in my classes. I understood a lot more, and for some reason I felt the need to do more of the work I was given.

But now it was the weekend and I really, really wanted to see Chris. He had actually called and invited me over, so I gladly accepted and left as quickly as possible. I managed to make it there in about ten minutes.

His mum let me in, told me he was in his room, and I thanked her and headed off once more. I slowly stepped through the doorway to his bedroom. Chris was on his bed, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling, but he must have heard me coming because he turned his head and smiled at me.

“Hey, Jonny,” he softly said. He gently turned on his side and patted down the empty space in front of him. “Come lay down with me.”

I walked over to his bed and joined him, resting my head on his pillow and my hand on his arm. “I've missed you,” I told him.

“I've missed you, too,” he whispered, bringing his hand to my cheek. His touch made me shiver a little. “My mum won't let me do much of anything around here. Since I've been back, I've just laid in here and... well, nothing, really. Just kinda stared around all day.”

“I'm sorry I didn't come over sooner,” I said. Chris slightly raised his eyebrows. “I had a bunch of school stuff I was doing and-”

“It's OK,” Chris said with a smile. “I'd much rather you pass your classes than come see me be a bore.” Then we just stared at each other for a while. Chris sighed a little. “Are you and your mum getting on all right?”

“Well... I guess.” I diverted my gaze, staring down at his chest. I could see his shirt ruffle as he breathed and his pulse lightly shook the thin fabric. For some reason, it gave me an odd, warm sort of feeling. “She definitely knows that I don't... But it's like I can't be mad at her, you know, because of everything she's done for me. I can't be mad at her for very long, anyway.”

“That's kinda sweet, isn't it?” Chris asked. I looked up again at his big, blue eyes, softened with what seemed like adoration. “Most teenagers- at least, it seems- would just take everything for granted and forget that it takes a lot to take care of even just one kid. Then they resent their parents for things that they shouldn't be mad about in the first place. But I think that's just the way the world works. People don't appreciate what they should.”

I felt sorry for Chris, as he appeared to be speaking with a great passion about this sort of thing. Probably because of the limits he'd had set on him his entire life. And even though I realized that he was saying I was above that, I still felt a little guilty hearing him say it.

“So, when are you getting that new heart, huh?” I casually asked him.

“Well, I'm on a waiting list. So, as soon as they tell me that they've got one.” He smiled a little, but for the most part he looked sad. I brought my hand down from his arm and I covered the area of his chest that I was sure contained his heart. Then I could feel it beating.

“I'd give you mine if I could,” I quietly said. He smiled for real this time, and placed his hand over mine.

“I think that might be a bit counter-productive,” he replied. “But thank you. In the meantime, I'm not supposed to do anything that could get my heart rate up. Even though they put me on meds- more meds- that are supposed to prevent that from happening. And if it does happen again, they gave my mum this thing and taught her how to use it. They taught my dad, too, but it's more likely that my mum would be the one using it.”

“Thing... like, um... like a defibrillator or something?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Chris nodded slightly, then his sadness seemed to reappear. He frowned, took a deep breath, and spoke again. “Jonny, you know when people are dying, when they know they're dying, but they don't know when it'll happen... they go out and live their lives like they've always wanted to. They do the things they were afraid to do before, since they don't know when it'll all be over. Those people are lucky.”

Something about Chris mentioning dying scared me a little. But I tried not to show it. “How are they lucky?”

Chris thought for a few moments. “Well, I think most people would say they're lucky because they've forgotten what fear is. Or they just ignore it. Because now there's no reason for them to be afraid. There's nothing to lose.” He took a short pause, and it was then I noticed that he was inching himself closer to me. “But really, they're lucky because they can do those things. They aren't being held back like some of the other people are.”

“Oh, geez, Chris-” Before I could move my arm, he buried his head in my chest. I heard a few sniffles, and Chris started shaking under my hand.

“Jonny, I don't mean to scare you,” he sobbed, “but no one knows what could happen. It could happen again b-before- and m-maybe this time it won't work out so well.” He took his hand off mine and tightly grabbed around my back. “But whether or not it does, there's nothing I can do but just sit around and wait.”

“Hey, you've made it this far,” I quietly said into his ear. “I know you can make it, Chris. You're strong enough.”

Chris lifted his head a little and looked at me, though it must have been hard to see through all those tears. “I hope so.”

-

As I was walking home that evening, it occurred to me that there had been several times in the past week that I had comforted Chris while he was laying in some sort of bed. I didn't know if that meant anything, but it was just something I noticed.

What Chris had said did scare me quite a bit, though he had said he didn't mean for it to. I found it easiest to get over those emotions by ignoring them, and pretending that I really was as strong as I acted for Chris. Eventually, I fooled myself so well that it actually became true. I did believe that everything was going to work out in the end.

For the following seven or so months, Chris did what he referred to as “sitting around and waiting.” Not being able to even really leave his room, let alone his house, his parents pulled him out of school and his mother home-schooled him. I tried to stop by almost every day to see him, and I would stay for a few hours.

About halfway through that time, Chris took up painting and other sorts of artsy things. Pastels and watercolors or something like that. He was pretty good at it. One day I watched him paint a stuffed tiger that belonged to his youngest brother. It was almost spot-on.

Then one quiet afternoon, the phone rang. It was Chris, calling to inform me that he had just received a call from the hospital, and that within a week or two he would be going into surgery. He sounded so happy that I couldn't help smiling along (he was no doubt smiling, from the excitement in his voice he was probably grinning wider than what was ever thought humanly possible).

“I told you you'd make it,” I said.

“Oh, Jonny, you and your need to be right,” Chris sighed, then laughed a little. “But I'm glad you were right.”

“I'm glad, too.”

“I would invite you over to celebrate, but maybe we should wait until after I'm not limited to just sitting around, eh?” he said in a deep voice.

“Sounds good to me,” I replied in what I thought was a similar voice. Then my mum came into the room and I thought it might be awkward to keep talking like that with Chris while she was able to listen, and so I told Chris that I would see him the next day and then I let him get on with whatever he and his family were doing.

For some reason I didn't visit Chris so much that week. Only once or twice. I guess I figured that it would be best for him to get a break from me or something, even though that explanation didn't make so much sense. He was obviously busy with other things, anyway, because he never called and demanded that I see him. But he did invite me over for dinner the night before he was scheduled to go into surgery.

It had never exactly hit me just how big his family was until we were all sitting at the dinner table. With both of Chris's parents there (normally his dad would have still been at work, but he had taken a few days off, so he had been home all day), all four of his brothers and sisters, myself, and, of course, Chris, it was a wonder that we all even fit in the room.

The meal was great, and once mostly everyone had finished eating, the younger kids went off into the other room to play, and Chris and I stayed at the table with his parents. Chris asked me loads of questions, about how I was doing in school and how my mum and I were doing at home. They were all questions that he asked me every time we saw each other, and the answers never really changed.

After I was done telling him about how I still hated my maths teacher, Chris excused himself from the table and went to fetch something from his room. He came back a few minutes later carrying a large stack of papers, which he proceeded to shove in front of me.

“Here, Jonny, I want you to have these,” he said, smiling at me in an almost frightening way. I took the papers from him and slowly looked at them.

Every single one was either a painting or drawing of me. They looked fantastic, though I can't say that I really enjoyed looking at myself thirty times in a row. As I flipped through the last few, I noticed that Chris was still standing behind me. He must have noticed, too, and he quickly sat down.

“I drew them, you know, over the last few months. Whenever I was feeling a bit down, and you weren't here, I just drew a picture of you and it helped.” Chris's head was down a bit, like he was embarrassed of what he had done. “I didn't hang them up with the rest, because I thought it might be just a bit weird, so I... I kept them under my bed.” Chris laughed shortly. “I guess that's not much less creepy.”

“These are really nice, Chris,” I told him. And if I hadn't been so strong by that point, I might have been worried that he seemed so intent on giving me the drawings before he had his surgery. It did hurt just a little, though.

I didn't stay for much longer, mostly because Chris's mum made him lie down and get some rest, so it was obviously time for me to leave. He went to get ready for bed, promising me that he would come back and say goodbye and so I had better not leave just yet, and I stayed in the kitchen and talked to his mum.

“Jonny, I'm sorry about Chris,” she vaguely said to me, though I had an idea of what she meant.

I looked up at her, and I knew then that even though before I wasn't sure if I should or not, there was something that I felt I needed to ask, and now seemed to be an appropriate time. “He, um... he doesn't think this'll work, does he?” I asked her. She looked at me for a while, her tired eyes giving enough of an answer by themselves.

“Last week we brought him to the doctor, and they explained all the risks and possible complications,” she began, “and... I don't think that he's convinced it won't work, he just wants to... be prepared.” She winced a little, then sighed, her exhaustion even more apparent. “He is killing me, I swear.”

“He's been doing stuff like this ever since, huh?” I asked, gently lifting up the drawings I was still holding. She nodded.

“For the past week, he's made sure that every night he does at least one thing with each of his brothers and sisters,” she said. “It's nice, and I'm glad that he gets along with them so well- because God knows they don't get on with each other very often- but it's just... I've had this perpetual headache all week.”

She lifted her hands and rubbed her temples, closing her eyes and sighing once more. “He'll be fine,” I said.

“I know he will. Everything that he's ever been through, I've been through with him, and I know that he can pull through just fine.” She opened her eyes again, but covered them with her hand. “It's just that I can't handle the thought of... of...”

I stepped forward to hug her, but she put her hand up in protest. “No, I can't let this get to me,” she said. “I appreciate your concern, but I just have to think of something else. I might as well get these dishes done now...”

She quickly turned around and switched her focus to the sink. I stepped back, and at that moment Chris walked into the room. He smiled as he put his arms around me.

“Goodbye, Jonny, I'll see you in a few days, yeah?” he said, then he softly kissed me and rested his head on my shoulder. I held him as tightly as I could without squeezing him to death, and I felt him move a little and quite suddenly his breath was on my ear. “I love you, Jonny,” he whispered.

At first I wasn't sure that I had heard him correctly, then I remembered Chris's behavior and knew that it had to be right. Rather than worrying, though, I just smiled and whispered back, “I love you, too, Chris.”

-

Chris stared down at the piece of paper in his hand for quite some time, his eyes unfocused as his mind was hard at work. Then suddenly he jumped a little, and quickly scribbled something down. When he had finished writing, he stared again, twisting his mouth in several different ways.

“Well, I think that's it,” he quietly said, perhaps more to himself, and he turned to me and smiled. “I finished my list!”

“Great,” I replied. A short pause. “What's it a list of?”

Chris smiled some more and held the list out in front of me. “It's a list of all the things I can do now. Well, you know, once the stitches come out.” He daintily lifted his other hand to his chest, and his fingers brushed over the thread that was holding his skin together.

“Oh, that's cool.” Chris nodded and took the paper back, letting it rest on his lap.

“I want you to do them with me,” he excitedly said, his eyes lighting up. “If you want, of course.”

“I'd love to,” I said. I watched as Chris looked over the list again, though he didn't appear to be thinking of anything to add to it. After a while I could see his eyes slowly slide over to discreetly look at me. Then Chris turned his entire head.

“What?” he asked, paranoid and laughing nervously.

“Nothing.” Chris narrowed his eyes at me. “I love you,” I told him.

He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly to the side. “I love you, too,” he said, “and, you know, there are a few things we could do together that I didn't write down.”

“Chris!” He looked at me questioningly, at which point I nodded to the other side of the room. He turned to look, and almost instantly realized what my problem was.

“Hey, mum,” he slowly said, the nervous laughter returning but in a much greater volume. “I see you're still in the room.”

“I certainly am,” his mum replied. She looked like she was torn between giving Chris some sort of stern talk, and just pretending she hadn't heard anything. There were a few moments of total and really awkward silence, then Chris shrugged.

“Whatever, I'm almost an adult,” he said.

“Jonny's not,” she retorted. Chris brought his hands up in the air, and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, but Jonny... Jonny is a September baby. And everyone knows September babies are... mature for... their... age.” Chris quickly brought his hand to his face and scratched his nose a few times. He coughed a little. His mother looked at him as though he had six heads. I might have had that expression as well.

“What are you even talking about?”

“I don't know!” he defensively replied. “Geez, I've just had a heart transplant and now they've got me on God knows how many drugs... you could cut me some slack.”

“Chris, you aren't on anything except immunosuppressants.” Chris threw his hands up once more, then he laid back against the pillows and looked at me.

“Jonny, you'll cut me some slack, won't you?” he asked so quietly and with such a serious face that I couldn't help laughing.

“Yeah.” He smiled, and reached his arm out to grab my hand. For a few minutes we sat like that in silence. Chris's mum stood up and walked towards the door.

“Chris, I'm going to get a drink. Would you like anything?” she asked.

“No, thank you,” he said.

“Jonny?”

“Uh, no, I'm fine,” I said. “Thanks.”

She nodded, then left the room. Less than a minute after she was gone, Chris sighed very loudly. “You know, Jonny,” he began, his voice hoarse, “it's not all over. Things could still... They put me on the immunosuppressants so that there'll be less of a chance that my body will reject it. But it's not a guarantee or anything.”

“What happens if your body does reject it?” I asked. Chris just stared at me, his eyes steadily becoming teary, and I had my answer. “Oh.”

I stared down at the floor, unable to look at him for much longer. I imagined that it was probably close to what his mother had felt; just the mere thought of this beautiful creature not being there... it was a lot to handle.

“I'm sorry, Jonny,” Chris said in a cracked voice. “I didn't mean to... I just... I'm just a-afraid.” Chris's hand, which was still in mine, started to tremble, and without thinking I looked up. Chris had his head tilted back facing the ceiling, but his eyes were closed.

“There's nothing to be afraid of, Chris,” I quietly told him. He kept his eyes shut. “I'll be here for you no matter what, and so will your family, and you're going to be fine.”

“Thank you, Jonny.” Chris finally looked at me again. He took his hand away from mine and brought it up to my cheek. “I don't know what I would do without you... I mean, I have my family, like you said, but now it just feels like you're included with them, you know? Not that you're family, because that would just be weird-” Chris's eyes bulged and I laughed a bit- “but, you know... I need you as much as I need them.”

“That's sweet.” Chris smiled, and he waved his hand as if to tell me to come closer. So I did. I inched forward a bit, but seeing that it wasn't enough, I stood up and leaned over Chris. He grabbed onto my shirt and pulled me down even further, then he kissed me.

When I pulled away, Chris had a rather devious glint in his eye, and for a few seconds it seemed as though he was going to pull me down again. But then he shook his head.

“No, no. No. No, I should not make out with you right now,” he said. “No, that would be a bad idea. Bad idea.” After he was done repeating his words a hundred times, he smiled at me again. “Ah, but don't fret, Jonny, it will be first on the list on things to do once I'm finally healthy enough.”

“Good,” I laughed, and Chris winked. Then this look came over his face, a look I had never seen before, an intense wondrous look that made Chris appear like a small child.

“Jonny, will you take me to the overlook?” he asked in a dazed voice. I had to think for a few moments; it had been so long since I went there that I had almost forgotten it existed. But I agreed once I had remembered, and Chris immediately wrote down a line on the top of his list: Go to the overlook with Jonny♥.

-

“Come on,” Chris said, holding out his hand. I skeptically looked at him.

“Why do you look like you're trying to trick me into something?” I asked. He dropped his arm a little and sighed.

“Jonny, we're gonna run there. That's it,” he said. Held held his hand out once more. “There, now that I've been totally honest, can we go??”

Chris started to bounce slightly on his feet, and I thought it would be fun to make him wait another minute or so. But he must have known my plan, and he took the liberty of grabbing my hand and pulling me down the road a bit.

We stopped, then Chris took a deep breath. “This is it, Jonny,” he quietly said in an awed tone. “I'm gonna run. For the first time in my life, I'm gonna run.”

“I'll be honest with you, it's not that great,” I told him. He turned to me and just smiled.

“Thank you for doing this with me. It really means a lot.” He quickly faced the road ahead of us once more, took another deep breath. “OK, on 3... 1... 2-”

“THREE!” I immediately shouted, and I started running before he even knew what was going on.

“Jonny!!” he yelled, though I could tell he wasn't really angry or anything. He seemed to be a bit shaky at first, and he held onto my hand tighter, but after a while he was starting to run ahead of me.

We didn't actually get to reach the trail to the overlook before we stopped running. It wasn't so far from Chris's house, but he got tired pretty quickly, so we walked the rest of the way. Chris started laughing as we strolled down the side of the road, and he swung his arm back and forth, consequently moving my own arm as well.

“This is so weird! Jonny, did you ever do something that you thought you'd never do?” he asked.

“Well, I never thought I'd date a guy,” I replied.

“Something that you've wanted to do, something you haven't been able to do,” he clarified. I shrugged. “Well, it really is an amazing feeling. It's like... well, it's indescribable I guess,” he said with a laugh. “But it feels great.”

Chris sighed contentedly, and we were both silent from then on, until we reached the rocks leading to the overlook. I decided it would be best to let Chris climb first, that way I could help push him up if he needed. It took him a minute or so to feel comfortable climbing, but he eventually got the hang of it and made it to the top with no problems. I followed, and within another few minutes we continued walking.

The overlook was just as perfect as I had remembered it. It was late spring now, so there was still some empty patches of dirt scattered about the ground and trees still left bare, but for the most part things were starting to turn green again. The water below was steadily moving, and the sun reflected off of bits here and there and made it shine spectacularly.

“This is so pretty,” Chris softly said, grabbing onto my arm and staring with amazement at the beauty that surrounded us. “I don't think I've ever seen anything like this before.”

“I used to come here all the time,” I told him. “It was a nice place to sit and imagine that everything was perfect in the world. Sometimes, in the summer, it would get so hot that I'd end up falling asleep in the grass.”

“That doesn't sound too pleasant,” Chris laughed.

“No, it was actually quite comfortable. I mean, I kinda started sweating and then the sweat mixed with the dirt and the back of my neck was sort of gross and dirty when I woke up, but it was fine otherwise.”

“Hmm, I could really use a nap right about now,” Chris said in a dreamy sort of way. “I guess I'm not really used to being awake for this long anymore.”

“How long have you been awake?” I asked.

“I don't know, six hours or something,” he replied with a shrug. I quickly did the math in my head, an area in which I had certainly improved since the beginning of the year.

“You've been awake since four??” Chris glanced up innocently and shrugged his shoulders again, this time much less confidently.

“I've been waking up at weird times for months now,” he carelessly said. “I'll wake up at four, then go back to sleep at eight, then wake up again at noon, then go to sleep at three, then wake up at five, then go to sleep at nine, then wake up at eleven, then go to sleep at one, then wake up at four... Same thing pretty much every day.”

“Why do you sleep so much?”

“I guess I'm just used to it.” He paused momentarily, looking as though he too was pondering why. But he didn't seem to be having much luck. “Anyway, that running kinda tired me out a lot.”

“Well, we can go back if you want-” I began, but Chris interrupted me with a wave of his hand.

“No, we just got here. I have a better idea,” he said, taking hold of my arm and dragging me to a patch of fairly thick grass. He sat down, pulling me along, and then he laid back and stared up at the clouds. I laid beside him, and he turned his head. “The clouds are nice today, too,” he smiled.

“I'm sure they are.” I didn't even bother to look up at the sky. I could see a tiny reflection in his eyes, anyway, but even then I didn't really care. Chris scooted over and rested his head on my chest.

“I'm only gonna close my eyes and rest for a bit, OK, I'm not actually going to fall asleep,” Chris told me. I put my arm around him and let my hand lay on his waist.

“All right.”

Several minutes went by and neither of us said anything. It was quite obvious that Chris had in fact fallen asleep, despite his assurance that he was not going to. That was fine by me, since I thought it was nice that Chris was sleeping in my arms. It was the first thing I had ever wished to stay the same for the rest of my life.

-

The first thing I heard when I stepped inside was crying. It was coming from the living room- more specifically, my mother, who, along with my father, was sitting on the sofa. He was on one side, facing my mum and staring at her with a strangely blank expression, and she was on the other side, trying to become part of the armrest while simultaneously bawling her eyes out.

I stood in the doorway and watched. I don't think either realized I had come home, and maybe they didn't care. They were obviously in the middle of something.

“Will you say something? Please,” my father said, his voice low and not at all genuine. He sounded professional in a way, like no matter how long he had actually been home for, he could not get his mind away from the last business trip. We weren't family to him, we were simply more people for him to do his business with.

“I just... can't believe-” she began, cut off by her own breath, hiccuping as more tears forced themselves out. She turned to look at my father, but it was only another moment before she turned back. She shook her head, either to symbolize that she had nothing else to say, or that she just couldn't speak anymore.

“I'm so sorry, really, I... I never wanted for any of this to happen,” he said, no more convincing than before. “All I've ever wanted was to be able to provide for- for you, and for Jonny... And some things have happened along the way, things that I couldn't control in the moment-”

“Oh, please,” my mum snapped, “I've shared a bed with you for eighteen years, you know how to control it.” This seemed to anger my father, since he was probably used to his insincere tone working on the people he bestowed it upon.

“I don't think that's very fair,” he said. Of course he didn't. “You don't know what it's like out there. You don't know what I have to go through every day just so you can have a roof over your head. Just so our son can have his meals every day.”

“Our son?” she repeated, quiet and with a hint of sarcastic laughter. “You don't even know Jonny. You never raised him. You didn't watch him grow up, I did. While you were out, selling watches and sleeping with your secretary.”

He stared at her incredulously, like he had just been insulted as he never had before. “I do not sell watches,” he quietly said, but with firmness and great offense. And just then, I had never felt angrier with him. If I had been close enough, or actually involved in the fight, I might have hit him right then and there. My mum looked like she was close to doing it as well.

“And that's all that matters to you,” she replied, calm despite her angered face. “It doesn't matter that you broke up our family, it doesn't matter that Jonny is probably completely messed up because of all of this. What do you sell? Lies? You don't seem to be very good at it, if you do. I can't imagine that you could have supported us for so long doing something you're awful at.”

“I don't see how it would be my fault that Jonny is messed up. After all, you said it yourself, I didn't raise him.”

“Exactly.” Both of their heads shot over in my direction, and it was then that I realized I had spoken. I figured I may as well keep going with it, so I took a step into the room. “Mum raised me single-handedly, and she did the best she could. A lot of people forget that it takes a lot to take care of even just one kid. It takes more than one person to do it right, and even then...”

“Would it have been better for me to spend more time with you, and for you to then be housed inside of a cardboard box somewhere on the side of the road?” my father asked me in a very parental sort of tone, one that I had never actually had directed at me before. “Because it takes money to be able to keep this place, and it takes work to make money.”

“You didn't have to be gone for so long,” I told him, trying, but failing, to keep my voice down. “You didn't have to go on business trips to make the money. You could have picked a regular old desk job, and maybe you wouldn't have been so happy, but at least we could have been a family. Now you come home and expect us to worship you like all your subordinates do. But you have to earn respect, dad. And you certainly haven't earned mine.”

My father stared at me, breathing heavy and angrily, but he said nothing. Maybe he thought that no matter what he said, it wouldn't make a difference because no one seemed to be listening to him, or maybe it was just that he knew he was wrong, and he didn't want to admit it. So he kept his mouth shut. I was content with that.

“Jonny, maybe you should go to your room for a bit,” my mum said, “your father and I still have some talking to do.”

“It's not like I won't hear you guys yelling,” I said. “And anyway, I already know what you've both been up to.”

“Both?” my father repeated, very loudly with very wide eyes, as he turned to my mum. “So, you've been cheating on me?”

She didn't answer; her eyes were glued to me, the most devastated look on her face. I had the feeling she was under the impression that I thought less of her because of her actions, and it must have hurt her to think that. I just stared back at her, trying to decide whether or not I did think less of her.

“Actually, I think I will go to my room,” I quietly said. “Is the phone in the kitchen?”

“You're gonna call Chris? You've been with him all day.”

“Who's Chris?” my father asked, having temporarily forgotten what had just happened. I sighed and started to back out of the room.

“You know what? Never mind, I'll just go to my room.”

“Who is Chris?? Who's Chris?” I heard him ask my mum as I walked further away from the living room. Her muffled reply came shortly after, and I drowned it out with my door, slamming it so hard I actually scared myself.

I laid down on my bed and closed my eyes. I tried to think back on what the day had been, the amazing day I spent with Chris. Sure, for quite a while he had been sleeping, but it was still a great day, because it couldn't be anything else as long as he was there with me.

Quite a long time must have passed while I was drifting into my own world, and suddenly a knock came out of nowhere.

“Come in,” I said, not bothering to open my eyes. I figured it would be my mum. The door creaked open, and a few seconds later a voice spoke.

“Jonny.” I sat up and looked with surprise at the door, where my father was standing. I should have seen it coming. “It, um...” he began with uncertainty, taking a few small steps forward, “it has been made clear to me today that I have not spent much time with you over the years.”

“It's too late, you know.” He nodded his head.

“I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me tonight,” he said. “At least I could, uh... get to know you a... a bit.” He spoke the last part unenthusiastically, and as though he had read it off a screenplay or something. I looked at him for a while, and in that moment I really wanted to be able to say yes, and really mean it, to really want to try to make things work. But they wouldn't, and I didn't care anymore.

“Please, Jonny,” my mum calmly said as she appeared in the doorway. “Just spend an hour or two with your father.” Of course, now I couldn't say no, because I couldn't let her down.

“Fine.”

-

“And how did that go?” Chris asked as he dug through a container of strawberries that was sitting on his lap. He picked out one that seemed to satisfy him, and he took a large bite out of it. Then he turned his big blue eyes at me and waited for an answer.

“It was... awkward,” I replied, wincing at the memory. “I mean, I can't remember the last time I even had a five-minute conversation with him, let alone an hour long one. And the food at that place was pretty horrendous.”

“Aw, I'm sorry.” Chris turned back to his container and picked up another strawberry. “Want one?”

“Uh, no, thanks.” I looked out into the yard; it couldn't have been much longer now before my parents came back. Of course, I didn't even know where they had gone in the first place, but they had been gone for at least three hours, and certainly they would return relatively soon. ”I think what made it worse was that... well, I'm pretty sure my parents are trying to use me now to keep their marriage alive.”

“You think so? Or maybe they're just staying together for the sake of their child,” Chris suggested, waving his hand in the air, in a voice that implied he also thought it was ridiculous. I shook my head as he laughed a little.

“They would never do anything for the sake of their child. My mum, maybe, but not my dad, and certainly not both of them together.” I stared down at the steps we were sitting on, and messed with the chipping paint. “I kinda wish they'd just split up already.”

Chris was silent. I suspect he was trying to think of something to say, but couldn't. He tapped his foot a few times. “Maybe that's what they went to go do,” he finally said. I smiled.

“I guess it's a possibility.” Chris dug through his container again. His left hand was holding the plastic, but I decided to pry it away and lace our fingers together.

“Gee, thanks,” he sarcastically said, “I wasn't using that.” I stuck my tongue out at him, and he retaliated by shoving a strawberry in my face.

“Ew, get that away from me! Those things are gross, I don't know how you can eat them.”

Chris shrugged. “I don't think they're bad. Plus, it's not like I can really eat whatever I want, and my mum said these would be good for me. And I'm hungry.”

Chris went back to picking through the strawberries. I watched him, laid my head on his shoulder, and almost instantly he leaned into me. There was a sound of crunching gravel nearby, and I looked up to see my parents' car pulling into the driveway.

“Well, I guess they're back now,” I said, sitting up. “Come on.”

I stood up and started walking away a little. Chris set down his container on the porch and followed, since our hands were still joined. My mum and dad stepped out of the car and we all sort of met in the middle.

“Where've you guys been?” I asked.

“Oh, you know,” my mum casually replied, “around.”

“We got you something, son,” my dad said in an strangely monotonous voice.

“Oh... kay...” No doubt something they bought just so they could keep me around them longer, because without me there wasn't much left that they had in common. Well, I wasn't having any of that. “This is Chris, by the way,” I said, motioning to the aforementioned boy with my free hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Chris beamed. He stuck out his hand, which my dad tentatively shook, and I caught his eyes wandering over our other, interlocked hands.

“You know, you could have mentioned this at dinner,” he quietly said to me.

“Yeah, that dinner was awkward enough.” I coughed, to try to ease some of the tension that I felt existed, and then I decided to be inquisitive. “So, what did you get?”

“Oh, right-” My father quickly turned to my mum, who was digging through her purse. It took forever for her to find what she was looking for. Finally, she pulled her hand out, and with it brought some tiny bit of shiny metal. It was a key.

“Here you are,” she said, holding the key out for me to grab. I took a closer look at it.

“You got me a car?” I blankly asked. “I don't even know how to drive.”

“Well, your father will teach you,” she said, shrugging a little. “It'll be good. It'll be great. You'll love it! You have your own car now, aren't you happy?”

“Yeah, thrilled, obviously,” I sarcastically replied, and turned to Chris. “I have my own car now.”

“That is kinda cool,” Chris said. “My parents could never afford something like that...”

“I have no idea how mine did.” I turned back to my parents, and I'm sure they were prepared for me to ask how they paid for the car, but I didn't. “So, where is this contraption?”

“It's at the dealership still,” my father answered. “Tomorrow we'll take you down, your mother can drive this car,” he reached behind him and hit the hood of the car, “home and I'll take you somewhere so you can start learning how to drive.”

“Can Chris come?”

“I suppose.” He rubbed his hand over his forehead. “I think I need a nap now, that salesman was something else... He kept trying to snake us into paying more than the car was worth. Not such a surprise, really, but it's still a hassle to get through.”

“Well, let's go inside, dear,” my mum said. “We'll let the boys be alone for a while.”

She began to walk, and after my father looked at us and sighed, he left as well. I turned and watched them enter the house, then I looked at Chris.

“Your parents seem to be getting along well,” he said, though it sounded like he was unsure of the truth in the statement. He shrugged a little, and I smiled at him.

“They're certainly trying.”

“Well, that's better than nothing, right? I mean, I know you said earlier that you want them to just split up, but... maybe they can work things out. Maybe things will get better, you know?” Chris brought his arm back a little and pulled me closer to him. “And hey, at least you got a car out of it.”

“Yeah,” I said, laughing, and I kissed him on the cheek. “At least there's that.”