by Elliot Joyce
Wren shrugged. He couldn’t find it in him to get excited about such a simple gesture, even if it was miles better than anything his parents would have done just a few months ago.
“Your mother and I love you, and so do your siblings. If you want to come out of your room and watch TV with us, you can. If you want to quit Boy Scouts now, you can. I won’t make you do anything, and you’re old enough to decide some things for yourself. But don’t mope all night, okay?” Dad squeezed Wren’s shoulder in a way that was probably supposed to be comforting but just ended up making him feel worse. “Let us know if you’re going to sleep.” With that, Dad left.
Wren thought he would be left alone for the rest of the night, and honestly, he didn’t care. He knew he should do some homework or at least try to be productive in some way. Seeing as his grades were on the downhill trend, that would have been the intelligent, responsible, almost-adult thing to do. Instead he pulled his phone out of his pocket and started to scroll through Facebook, hoping to find something to take his mind off the sudden feeling of abject loneliness that hit him.
Of course that didn’t happen, seeing as he had lost a lot of his Facebook friends and real friends. Luke had messaged him, though, and Wren eagerly opened it just to see it was asking for the pages for the lit homework.
55-105, you lazy ass. Why don’t you write it down like the rest of us? Wren asked. He wasn’t surprised at all when he got an immediate reply.
Because you’re such a good friend <3 <3 <3
Wren sent a middle finger emoji. All was right with the world.
He was surprised to see he had a few new friend requests. Even more surprising, he only had one friend in common, Chris. Wren stared at the names and icons, struggling to place them besides the obvious “from Boy Scouts.”
Except for Felipe Nieves, a name and face that Wren hadn’t forgotten about for a minute. Even if Felipe hadn’t given his last name, there was no question that it was him. In Felipe’s picture, he was grinning with an arm around a young man who had the same hair and the same slight gap in his front teeth. Wren clicked on it and was unsurprised to see a Manny Nieves tagged in it, remembering that Felipe had an older brother whom he had seemed pretty close to.
Wren hit Add and, after another moment of thought, accepted the requests Kyle Cabrales and Travis Konah sent, even though he could barely remember who they were. He figured it was better to do it now and delete them later than it would be to ignore them and possibly offend them into thinking he didn’t want to be friends. Which, well, he did want friends; he just didn’t know what to expect.
He hit the search bar and hesitated before pulling Felipe’s profile up, telling himself that it wasn’t creepy. Felipe had added him first. And anyways, everyone knew that whatever one posted online never went away and one should just expect people to look at it sooner or later.
That was what Wren told himself, at least, as he scrolled through Felipe’s wall. There were a number of photos of him with his brother and a few with two women who were his sisters, if Facebook was anything to go by. Felipe also complained a lot about homework, having to go to church too early on Sundays, and about the lore inconsistencies between The Lord of the Rings movies and books.
The last part was the most confusing. Felipe was very vocal about his feelings on just about everything it seemed, though most of the posts weren’t original but shared. He also posted constantly, and Wren wondered if this was a good or bad thing.
Sibling reunion before school starts! read the caption on one of Felipe’s photos. He was in the middle of a group of his siblings, all of them grinning. Around his brother’s neck dangled a crucifix, but it didn’t look like Felipe had one. Wren tried to remember if he had seen one the other night but couldn’t. Then he recalled all the complaining about church and Mass and connected the dots. He let out a groan as he ran a hand over his face.
Go fucking figure, he thought as he kept scrolling.
Felipe’s family came up often, and soon Wren felt like he could pick them all out of a lineup, though his parents were strangely absent. Raquel, one of Felipe’s sisters, had Felipe’s gap in her teeth but the other didn’t. Destiny, who Wren was pretty sure went to beauty school or owned a salon or something, had the same sparkling blue eyes as Felipe. Well, not the same. Wren was pretty damn sure no one could have eyes like Felipe, who looked like someone had taken the summer sky and placed it in Felipe’s eyes.
That was quite possibly the most embarrassing thought Wren had ever had, and he was glad that no one was there to see him groan and roll onto his stomach, shoving his face into the bed.
Suffocation sounds good right about now.
His phone was still showing the too-cheerful photo of Felipe and his loving, Catholic family.
“I’M SORRY,” Blair said a few days later.
Wren stopped, his spoon halfway between his bowl and his mouth, drops of milk splashing down below.
“For the other day. I know I was being rude and inconsiderate, and I’m sorry.” She was standing there in her pajamas, hair still a rat’s nest from last night, looking at Wren with a legitimately apologetic expression on her face.
Wren didn’t buy it. “Who told you to apologize? Mom?” He set his spoon back down in his cereal and glanced at his phone, but the screen was dark. How long was this going to take? Was it rude to just walk away and get ready for school? Did he really want to get to school on time?
“I’m apologizing because even though you’re an ass, you’re still my brother,” Blair replied with a huff. She crossed her arms before letting them drop. “I’m not stupid, y’know. I know why you changed schools and all that stupid stuff. I’m just jealous.” She sighed and ducked her head, her bangs covering her eyes. “School sucks. I wish I could change schools.”
“Changing schools sucks too,” Wren reassured her.
“Thanks.” Blair sighed again, and Wren had a flashback to the sort-of conversation with his dad. Why was it that his family seemed to enjoy sighing around him? Was his depression contagious? Was that even a thing? “I’ll try to be nice to you, you ass.”
“Yeah, well, you’re still my annoying little sister, no matter what,” Wren told her in a deadpan as he took another spoonful of his cereal.
“Blair, sweetie, are you going to take a shower before school or after?” Mom asked as she walked into the dining room, her hair neatly put up in a bun just like Wren used to, back when he had enough hair.
“Before,” Blair said, not looking at Mom.
Wren saw the eyebrow raise Mom did and shook his head slightly. Appeased, she kept getting ready for work.
“I like you as Wren, you know. I thought I’d miss having two older sisters, but I got all your stuff,” Blair added, grinning.
“I’m glad you only like having me around for my stuff,” Wren replied, voice still flat.
Blair made a face and slapped him on the arm, the stinging sensation running up and down his nerves. “Well, it does mean Mom only has two girls to spoil, so August and I get more stuff. You should have come out ages ago.” Blair laughed, and Wren tried not to take her casual attitude so seriously. She was clearly trying to apologize and seemed genuine enough. “But really, are we okay? I don’t want you all mopey and sad because of something I said.”
And really, that was it, wasn’t it? Wren knew he had to remember that Blair, for all her honor roll certificates and glowing recommendation from teachers, was twelve. He wanted to be mad, but she was his sister and that was important. He couldn’t keep being bitter toward her.
Or something like that. He could be a little bitter.
Most days, Wren felt bitter about the world.
“I’m not angry at you anymore,” Wren said, choosing his words carefully. “You said something that hurt me, but I forgive you.”
“Cool!” Blair lunged forward and hugged him tightly, cutting his air off temporarily before taking off without a glance back. “Mom, I’m gonna take my shower!”
�
�I’m taking my shower now!” August shouted back from somewhere in the house.
“You have ten minutes before we’re leaving!” Dad told them all, tying his shoes in the living room.
Wren looked at his phone and realized that, indeed, there were only ten minutes before they’d have to take off or he’d be late for school. That was the problem with having kids at three different places: it took for-fucking-ever to get everyone at the right place in the morning.
“Shit,” he mumbled, before shoveling his cereal in his mouth as quick as he possibly could.
TWELVE MILES away, Felipe Nieves was kissing his grandma goodbye.
“¿Cuándo estarás en casa?” she asked, voice rising despite how close they were to each other.
“Lo normal, Abuela,” he reassured her, casually glancing at her ears. The aids were in but turned low. He debated telling her before deciding she probably wouldn’t need to hear anything important anyway. “Adiós. ¡Y tomas tu medicina!” He kissed her on both cheeks before dashing for the car.
He made sure to double-check that he had brought the trash in, remembering the other month when he had almost dented the back of the car after hitting the aforementioned black container. He wasn’t running late, per se, but he wasn’t exactly on time either. That being said, on time for him was not on time for everyone else, so he slid into the library five minutes late.
“Hey, sorry, I had to clean up my cat’s vomit,” he told Kyle. Unfortunately it wasn’t a lie. Felipe loved Bribón, but sometimes she felt as old as his abuela.
“Dude, I did not want to know,” Kyle replied, putting his phone down. “This shit is stupid anyways. I can’t believe you’re actually making me do this.” He still pulled out his notebook and last night’s homework, half of which was finished.
“Do you want to pass sophomore year, or do you want to have to be held back because you decided that, what, twenty math problems weren’t worth your time?” Felipe asked, flipping through the packet and frowning at some of the parts that Kyle had just left blank.
“I didn’t feel like doing them.”
Well, at the very least, Kyle was honest about it.
“Aren’t you going to be kicked out of soccer if you fail math again?” Felipe had a vague memory of Travis and Kyle getting into an argument over it, but at the end of the day, Travis was not the one who went to high school with Kyle. No, that mildly dubious distinction went to Felipe, who knew Kyle was brilliant and could come up with solutions to all sorts of strange problems.
Just not math problems, apparently, or his own problems with getting his homework done on time.
As a last-ditch effort, the two had arranged to meet every morning to go over whatever Kyle hadn’t finished the night before. Felipe wasn’t sure he was really helping the problem itself, feeling more like he was putting duct tape over a much larger issue.
“Maybe.” Kyle twirled his pen through his fingers. “Listen, I have a D. I just gotta pass the next few tests and then I’ll be safely in the C range.”
They both knew he could do most of the work, which further confused Felipe. He could understand if Kyle just didn’t understand what to do for whatever reason, but he knew how to solve the problems or annotate a book.
He just didn’t.
“We can’t all be huge nerds like you,” Kyle said.
Felipe raised an eyebrow. “This nerd can walk right out that door and leave you here if you want.”
“No, no, we can start,” Kyle quickly amended with a wry grin. He grabbed his homework back, flipped to the beginning, and looked at the first problem. “So,” he said as he began working, “I’m guessing you haven’t messaged Wren yet?”
“Why do you say that?” Felipe asked, confused and not sure he wanted an honest answer.
“Well, you haven’t talked about him recently, and after that last meeting, you wouldn’t shut the fuck up,” Kyle replied. He glanced up and winked, and Felipe, despite himself, felt his face heat up.
“Hey, it was just nice to see someone who wasn’t your dumb ass or Travis’s fat ass.”
“You know, that hurts,” Kyle said. He put a hand over his heart and gave Felipe a look. “I’m sitting here, minding my own business—”
“No you aren’t—”
“—and you just go and hurt me like that.” Kyle shook his head. “Makes a man wonder if we’re really friends.”
“If we weren’t friends, do you think I’d wake up every morning and drive to school early just to enable you to continue being the laziest Boy Scout to ever Boy Scout?” Felipe asked.
Kyle nodded and strummed his fingers on the table. He was tapping his foot; Felipe could hear it against the shitty laminate floor. Not for the first time, Felipe wished he had the same amount of energy as his friend.
“You make a convincing argument.” Kyle went back to his work but didn’t shut up. That would be a minor miracle involving no fewer than six priests and perhaps an entire Catholic choir. “But seriously, you had a five-minute conversation and didn’t even talk about anything interesting. Why in fuck’s sake do you care so much about him?”
“I dunno. He’s funny.”
“He’s funny.” Kyle didn’t look up, but he didn’t have to.
“Listen, why is it such a big deal whether I like him or not? I want him to come back and go camping with us and all that shit. It helped me a lot and it helped you. Maybe it’ll help him,” Felipe said. The words were rushed, like he didn’t quite believe himself, but he didn’t know what else to say.
Kyle was silent for a long time, long enough to get through three or four problems. Felipe pulled out his phone and wasn’t even looking at Kyle when he eventually responded.
“You know, it’s okay to say you just want a friend.” He phrased it oh-so innocently, and Felipe felt a little angrier because of that.
“What? You think just because I don’t have a dozen soccer bros or two dozen football buddies like you or Travis that I’m lonely?” he asked, crossing his arms.
“I mean, dude, you hang out with your siblings all the time and you’re constantly talking about your weird nerdy shit.” Kyle held up his hands. “Like, I like fantasy and video games and that, but you’re obsessed. It’s okay that you want someone to talk to about it. I don’t take it personally. Hell, it’s better if Wren gets into it too because then I have to hear less about why the combat system in Skyrim is unrealistic or why Dragon Age: Beginnings needs a remake.”
“Dragon Age: Origins,” Felipe corrected.
Kyle gestured wildly at him. “You are proving my point, dude.” He leaned forward, forearms on the table. “You’re, like, one of my best friends. You and Travis are like brothers to me. But he’s the, like, big football and sports bro who I wrestle and beat up, and you’re the nerdy shit who makes sure I don’t fail classes.”
“That’s not even a metaphor—that’s real life,” Felipe pointed out.
“So?” Kyle shrugged. “My point is that you, dude, need more friends. And if you wanna be friends with Wren, then I’ll make sure he sticks around.” He leaned back, hooking his feet underneath the table to balance as he spun a pen in his fingers. “So, okay, you think he’s gonna come to the next meeting, or are we gonna have to put some pressure on Chris?”
“You make it sound like we’re taking a hit out on someone.”
“Eh.” Kyle waved his free hand. “Taking a hit, making friends. It’s all the same.”
A librarian walked by and glared. Kyle waved and put the chair back on the ground, face morphing into a shit-eating grin.
Or, as Felipe liked to say, his usual.
“He seemed like he would? I dunno. I sort of left as soon as his brother showed up.” Felipe didn’t care for Chris one way or another. Now that he’d met Wren, Felipe couldn’t help but think that Chris was a lot like Wren Lite. Chris wasn’t interesting enough to hold Felipe’s attention, but he wasn’t necessarily a bad guy either. Just average.
But Wren. Something about Wren mad
e Felipe think they were going to get along better than fine. Even if he couldn’t articulate why, he just felt it. They just had to become friends first.
“No one gave him any shit, right?” Kyle asked, voice dropping as he glanced around. “I’ll talk to Percy if they do.”
“Nah, it seemed cool. And let’s be real, it’s not like Percy is a model citizen,” Felipe replied.
“He’s getting better than he was. But no, you’re right. It’s better if I just have a talk with anyone who might be a problem. Me and my two good friends.”
Felipe gave Kyle a look. “Your two friends being me and Travis? Because if we’re going to be intimidating people, I think you should just leave it to Travis. He’s got what, a foot and a hundred pounds on you?”
“You know, I had a great punchline set up about my fists, but I’m actually kind of flattered. And insulted.” Kyle grinned. “Punchline. Get it? Because I punch things with my fists?”
“Unfortunately, yes, I get it.” Felipe glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. It was three minutes slow, so in reality there were only five minutes before zero period started. “Hurry up. You should at least get this done before lunch. We can talk about my interpersonal relationships later. I have to go to robotics soon, and I am not going to be late to class because you can’t get your ass in a chair.”
“Excuse you, my ass is in a chair right now,” Kyle complained, even as he went back to work.
“Your ass is in a chair because you know your dad would actually fucking beat your ass if you got kicked out of soccer.”
“You make a convincing argument.” Kyle paused as he flipped the page. “Okay, I don’t know how to do this one. Help me later?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Felipe sighed even as he grabbed his backpack and stood. “You owe me, man.”
Kyle nodded as he unceremoniously shoved his math homework into the depths of his bag. There was a 20 percent chance that it would disappear into the bowels of his backpack, never to be seen by mortal eyes ever again. “I’ll take one of your cooking shifts when we head back to Aspen.”