by Rachel Lou
“Me too. I like reading humor books.” Bryce touched his toes and tucked his chin to his knees, ears red. “I also like short stories. Every detail counts.”
“Do you have a favorite author?”
“I don’t remember authors. I just read random short stories. Lots of satirical shorts. Some parodies.” All of which fit Bryce perfectly.
They stood out of their stretches for a few seconds and looked at each other with small smiles. Something indescribable passed between them that warmed Everett’s neck.
Bryce grinned. “Ready to start?”
Everett nodded.
“Do you know anything about a sparring stance?”
“It’s the fighting stance.”
“Do it.”
Everett tried to recreate the stance he had seen in classes and on TV. It looked natural on the big screen, but in real life it was alien to him.
Bryce moved Everett’s hands so that one was in front of his cheek and the other was an inch under his chin. “Lift your back heel and keep your toes on the ground. And loosen your body a little. Don’t be too stiff.”
Bryce was a gentle teacher. He instructed with a patient voice and soft touches. The touches were like magnets. Everett followed Bryce’s guiding hands with the natural smoothness and ancient familiarity of the Earth orbiting the sun.
They covered the movements of the sparring stance when in combat. Bryce taught the different timing of bounces by moving alongside Everett. They swayed back and forth, jumped up and down in a rhythm that was foreign alone, but natural together.
Bryce added in the footwork that served as the proper movements around a sparring ring. He had Everett follow him across the floor with different steps at varying speeds. At one point they were nearly sprinting. Some of the footwork looked silly when done in a rush, such as the half step, which was a quick step forward with the leading leg, and a quick step backward with the back leg.
The majority of their hour together was spent learning basic punches and kicks. Everett had difficulty with the kicks because of his lack of flexibility. Kicking at waist level pained his hamstrings, so he stretched his legs for several minutes while Bryce demonstrated the kicks, pulling his sweats tight over his muscular legs to show the details of each technique.
At the end of the night, Everett knew the sparring stance, some footwork, and a few beginning punches and kicks.
“Keep stretching and practicing. You’re not too bad for a beginner,” Bryce said as they closed up the dojang.
“I’m already sore.” Everett couldn’t bring his knee to his chest without wincing.
“You’ll get used to it. When do you want to have the next lesson? We could schedule it later in the week so you can rest a little.”
Bryce opened the door for Everett, but didn’t move with the door to give him room. He stood on the other side of the doorframe and propped the door open with a stretched arm, making a little bridge for Everett to duck under.
The gap between Bryce and the door was small. Everett stepped out sideways, facing Bryce, and their bodies brushed against each other. The white and gray streaks in Bryce’s eyes were brighter up close, like true stars.
“Is that a yes?” Bryce asked.
“I’m free the rest of the week.”
Bryce locked the doors, and Everett went to his car. The night air bit at his cheeks and sweaty skin. He dropped his bag next to the front tire and struggled to put his sweater on. His head got stuck in the opening of a sleeve. While pulling his head out, he slipped his arm through the neck opening.
Bryce laughed and helped sort Everett out. His hands burned Everett everywhere they touched.
“Thanks.” Everett touched his wrist, where Bryce had held on while he guided Everett’s arm out of the neck opening.
“Your hair.” Bryce smiled and ran a hand over Everett’s frizzed hair.
The static from the sweater, combined with Everett’s sweat, made it nearly impossible to untangle the knots.
“You’re like a kid,” Bryce said.
Everett sighed and dropped his hands at his sides. “I could shave it all off.”
“No. Keep it long. It looks good. Maybe get a trim or something.”
“Maybe. I should get going. My grandfather will want to see me home.” Everett tossed his bag in the passenger seat.
“Do you go out late often?”
“I try not to. Nothing good happens on the streets at night.” Everett closed the passenger door and looked at the middle of the street. Everett imagined a ghostly apparition of the knot. “The night has always struck a scary chord with me.”
“The woods?”
“Particularly the woods. The stories of the people who’ve disappeared in there are enough to put me off walking the path at any time past sunset.”
Bryce looked at the straps of his sandals, lips twisted in thought. “Do you believe the stories?”
“I… believe in the unknown. I don’t know if the stories are true, but I believe in the possibility they are.”
Bryce nodded. He stared beyond his sandals with glazed eyes.
“Do you think that’s strange?” Everett asked.
Bryce looked up at the empty street and shook his head. His expression was hard under the streetlight, handsome and concentrated. “We don’t know everything. The unknown definitely exists.”
“But ghosts and strange creatures…. Is it strange to believe in them?” Bryce looked at him silently. There was no judgment in his eyes, but something in the steadiness of his gaze made Everett say, “It is.”
“No, it isn’t. People believe in an afterlife, and no one thinks they’re weird for believing that. Well, some do, but a lot of them are accepted. Spirits…. What kind of spirits are you talking about? Ghosts? Souls? Is there a difference?”
Everett was about to answer when his phone buzzed with a text notification. “It’s probably my grandfather. I should leave.”
“Yeah. Your gramps is a nice guy. Wouldn’t want to piss him off.” Bryce tousled Everett’s hair. “Call me when you want another lesson. Or book it online. Whatever suits your needs.”
Everett touched his hair and dragged his fingers through a recreation of Bryce’s tousling. His scalp tingled. “I’ll do that. Thanks for scheduling this one for me. It was considerate of you.”
“No biggie.”
Everett’s phone buzzed again.
“You should get that,” Bryce said.
Everett’s phone rang.
Bryce chuckled. “You should definitely get that. Have a nice night.” He tugged a lock of Everett’s hair before walking to his car.
Everett answered his phone. “Grandpa? I’m on my way home.”
“How was it?”
“Educational. I learned a lot.” Everett climbed into his car and started the engine at the same time Bryce started his. “Bryce is a great teacher.”
His grandfather chuckled. “I see.”
“He knows his stuff.”
“Clearly.”
Everett grinned. “I’m going to drive now. I’ll see you at home.”
“Drive safely.”
Bryce didn’t pull away from the sidewalk until Everett drove away. It was as though he had been waiting for Everett to leave first.
Chapter 13
EVERETT SOAKED in the tub while his grandfather popped the moving boxes into shape. He could hear the rips of the packing tape and the hollow thuds of the empty boxes on the hardwood floor.
He lolled his head against the tub and dozed off, thinking of Bryce and the musky tang of sweat mixed with the bite of deodorant.
“How much longer are you going to be in there?” his grandfather asked.
“Five minutes.”
“You should be a raisin by now.”
Everett’s fingers were wrinkled, but he didn’t mind. He’d lain still so long the surface of the water was completely flat.
Buzz dipped in and out of the bath water, barely disturbing the surface.
&nb
sp; “Don’t electrocute me,” Everett said.
Buzz wriggled against his foot, trying to prop it up. He gave Buzz the satisfaction of lifting his foot a little. Buzz wedged himself farther in, and Everett lowered his foot to pin him down, careful not to crush him. Buzz tried to float out and then dragged his tentacles on the bathtub floor. He tapped a tentacle impatiently. He had the strength to pull himself out; he was making a statement.
Everett smirked and lifted his foot. “All right. I’ll get out.”
He fluffed his hair with a towel, and Buzz swelled to the size of a basketball. Buzz opened his eye and pointedly stared at Everett’s groin.
Everett swatted Buzz’s cap. “Grow up, pervert.”
Buzz bounced off the ground like a ball and shrunk to his usual size. He sat on Everett’s head.
“It’s not nice to follow people into the bathroom,” Everett said, slipping on his bathrobe.
“You let Buzz in there?” his grandfather said from the hall.
“He snuck in. Perverted jellyfish.” Everett slapped down on Buzz’s cap. Buzz flattened like a pancake and sank to the floor.
Everett opened the door, and Buzz inflated with a pop and floated into the hall, where his grandfather was kneeling in front of a dozen opened boxes at the mouth of the hall.
“You can do this tomorrow after work. It’s kind of late,” Everett said.
His grandfather exhaled a shaky breath. His eyes were moist and his face was ashen. “I want to get us moved soon. While you were in the bath, I got a call from Mr. Pendley. Omar’s disappearance sounds like dirty work. The last anyone heard from Omar was before he confirmed our lessons. The Order called together its investigative team to look into this. Omar has only been gone for two days, so for the Order to call the team together means something is up.”
He rubbed the corners of his eyes with a finger as ashen as his face. “I promised to keep you safe. I don’t know if I’m doing enough, or if I can do any more.”
Everett tightened his bathrobe sash and dropped to his knees in front of his grandfather. “It’ll be fine,” he said and enveloped his grandfather in a damp hug. “That doesn’t mean it’s connected to me. Your instincts are hyped because of all the new things that have been happening. Omar might just be making a statement. You don’t know yet.”
Buzz joined their hug and bumped his cap between their heads.
“You might be right. You might be wrong,” his grandfather said.
“But we don’t know yet. I’ll pack while you’re at work and when you get back, we’ll team up.”
They pulled out of the hug. A wet splotch covered his grandfather’s shirt. They laughed, and Buzz joined in with jolly inflates and deflates of his squishy body.
BEFORE EVERETT got in bed, he checked his phone.
A minute ago, Bryce had texted, Are you free tomorrow?
I’m busy. Why?
The reply came after seconds. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out sometime.
Everett gaped. Buzz tried to fly into his mouth. He swatted the jellyfish away and flopped on his mattress, heart skipping in a dance.
I’m packing boxes for the move. If you want….
Everett paused. Should he? His heart told him to.
I’m packing boxes for the move. If you want, you can help. I can give you a dollar for the assistance. It’s small, but we’re short on disposable income.
I’d love to help free of charge. It’d be fun! :]
Really? You’re not just saying that to be nice?
I’m being honest! I’d LOVE to help.
Everett planted his face in his pillow. If he was a cartoon, steam would be rolling off his blushing cheeks.
Buzz bounced on his pillow with a bulging eye.
“Bryce is coming over tomorrow,” Everett said.
Buzz pushed off the pillow with incredible force for his small body. He bounced like a balloon off the ceiling, the pillow, the ceiling again, then landed next to Everett’s phone. He wriggled his tentacles at the text keyboard as if to tell Everett to answer.
“You understand the importance of this?” Everett laughed.
He texted, I’ll be here all day. At my house, obviously.
“Good thing you can’t read,” Everett told Buzz. “You’d laugh at the terrible things I text.”
Buzz inflated and deflated in sporadic sizes, mimicking deep belly laughs. He pointed at the bookshelf, then his eye.
“You can read?”
Buzz spun.
“Sorry I assumed.”
When should I come over?
Any time is good, just don’t come before sunrise. I’ll be sleeping.
Buzz sat on Everett’s head and read the text conversation, thrumming pleasantly.
I’m a night owl, so there’s no chance of me dropping by that early. I’ll come around 12. Will your gramps be there?
Buzz vibrated.
“Oh shut up.” Everett rolled his eyes.
He’ll come back between eight and nine.
Cool! So we have the place to ourselves.
Buzz fell off Everett’s head and rolled on the pillow, tentacles quivering in the air.
Everett quickly responded. I don’t have beer if that’s what you’re insinuating.
I didn’t mean it like that! :D I just meant we have time to get to know each other better.
Buzz continued to spasm on the pillow.
Well, I gotta go. My dad wants me to watch a movie with the family. Night! Sleep tight!
“You better not mess with us tomorrow,” Everett told Buzz.
Buzz rolled upright and bounced up and down.
Chapter 14
EVERETT’S GRANDFATHER had opened more than enough boxes to fit their few belongings. With Bryce’s help, all that would be left for packing at the end of the day was furniture and other heavy, bulky objects.
Everett would be completely settled in the shop by midweek.
Buzz followed Everett around the house as he tidied up for Bryce’s visit. Any cleanliness would come undone during the packing, but Everett wanted to start off clean.
Everett didn’t know if his grandfather was strict about inviting boys over, so he kept their morning talk off the topic of Bryce and his plans for the day.
If he was asked about Bryce, he wouldn’t lie. It didn’t count as lying if he found loopholes around mentioning the truth.
When his grandfather left, the guilt of the withheld truth disappeared.
“It’s just a boy coming over,” Everett told himself, but his gut clenched as though his instinct was warning him.
He almost changed his pajamas into casual clothes, but Buzz approved of the thin, baggy clothes he already wore. He added his robe, as suggested by Buzz. He was going to brush his hair, but Buzz zapped his hand when he picked up the brush. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed, and that might have been what Buzz was aiming for when the jellyfish floated around the coffee machine in a prideful dance. Everett was to play the role of the sleepyhead who had fallen out of bed and needed a dose of caffeine to stay awake. Everett didn’t see the charm in that, but Buzz did, so Everett humored him and stayed in his pajamas.
He sat at the chess table with his coffee and waited for Bryce’s blue car to appear. Buzz poked him when the intervals between his sips lengthened too much.
The coffee was strong and bitter. Buzz hadn’t let Everett add any cream or sugar.
Bryce zoomed into the driveway, next to Everett’s car.
Everett took a big gulp, then stood up. He straightened out his clothes and somehow made them seem more rumpled. Buzz clapped his tentacles, applauding Everett.
The doorbell rang, and Everett’s heart stopped. On the way to the front door, he checked his face in the bathroom mirror and regretted following Buzz’s advice. His first test of the day had been to maintain his cool around having Bryce alone in his house. Now it was to avoid scaring Bryce with his bedraggled appearance.
Buzz flitted in front of the door, eye ex
posed and pupil dilated. He darted left and right and then, seeing Everett, latched on to his arm and pulled him away from the door.
“Stop that.” Everett tried to pry off the tentacles wrapped around his wrist. “Don’t you want to meet him?”
He flicked Buzz off, making the jellyfish flip tentacles-over-cap, and opened the door.
Buzz screamed.
“Shit!” Everett hunched over and covered his ears.
The scream wasn’t audible. It was like a blanket covered with hundreds of knives enveloped his mind as Buzz blasted out of the house.
“What the fuck was that?” Bryce also had slapped his hands over his ears. He shook his head and blinked hard, as though he could blink away the ringing that surely plagued his mind in the same way it plagued Everett’s.
He touched Everett’s back and scanned the road outside.
That hadn’t been a scream of excitement.
“Maybe an accident?” Everett said, his mind scrambling uselessly to find an explanation for Bryce hearing Buzz.
“Could be. You should sit down. It looks like you’re going to sway.” Bryce toed off his shoes and held Everett to his side until Everett was seated on the couch. “There’s always something happening to you. Or is it just me?”
Everett curled on the couch. “Just you.”
Bryce smiled and cast a suspicious look outside before he shut the door.
“THE COFFEE will make it worse. Stick to herbal teas and you’ll be energized without the crash—or headaches.” Bryce swapped the coffee cup for a mug filled to the brim with chamomile and mint tea. “Your gramps knows what’s up. This is the best tea out there.”
Everett poked his tongue in the tea to test the warmth. It wasn’t too hot or too cool, and it rushed down Everett’s throat, satisfying warmth trailing behind it.
Bryce moved a few small boxes into the living room. “Where should I start?”
“You don’t have to.”
“But I want to. Should I start with your books? I’m sure you have a huge bookshelf stuffed with books.” Bryce stood over the boxes and cracked his knuckles.
“I wouldn’t call it huge.” Everett never spent money on physical copies. His entire library was a collection of gifts, giveaways, and childhood books.