[14] Because They Care

(Kyle)

“That was hurtful, Lloyd. You really put a load on my pride!” I say in mock hurt.

Malory and I have been sitting on the floor for the past half hour talking about our various episodes of duo hell.

“It was the least I could do when you became a stubborn splinter in my life!” she yells, laughing.

I laugh along. I’m glad she’s okay.

I’m glad we’re talking this out.

I sigh and stretch. “We were so immature and stupid. Look at all the shit we’ve done to each other. It amazes me that we haven’t made it into a history book breaking the record for the most pathetic, petty world conflicts to take place between two people.”

“We’re capable of turning the conspiracy of World War Three into a teen drama novel.”

She’s probably right.

Malory’s stomach growls.

“Well, that’s my cue,” she says, standing. “I’m gonna go get some food. What do you want? Come to the kitchen –there’s all sorts of junk there.”

Wait...

The conversation’s over?

But I’m not ready for Malory’s grumbling belly to end our greatest interaction.

I never thought I’d be angrier at Malory’s stomach than I would be at her.

“I... think I should probably head home now, actually. I should be fine til’ I get there,” I say, reluctantly.

She scoffs, baffled. “Don’t be ridiculous, Davidson. Look at the time! Look outside! It’s dark and you are not walking all the way to Millennium Lane from here. That’s at least an hour and a half of walking because you’re not going to get a taxi any time soon.”

“What are you talking about? I’ve been doing that since I was-”

-Nope.

Whoops. Whoops.

Shut up! Avert Eyes! Turn Away!

I shoot Malory a look of anxiety for one quick moment before realising I shouldn’t panic in front of her.

Kyle, you idiot.

I think I’ll just do myself a favour and cut my tongue off.

Malory folds her arms. “Since you were what?”

“What I mean is... you really shouldn’t be the one to talk!” I say, quickly. “You live here all alone, come home in darkness after work, wake up early and travel in darkness... It’s a wonder you’ve never been preyed upon by a paedophile.”

“What?” She asks, triggered. “I know how to fight, Kyle!” She says defensively. “Do you think I would’ve known if I never had to!?”

I’m startled. “What...”

What’s that supposed to mean?

Her eyes go wide and she stands firmly on her two feet, inhaling deeply to process what she’d just said. She opens her mouth to say something but changes the topic instead.

“I... I’m going -food. To get some food.”

“You... know what? On second thought, you’re right.”

She eyes me suspiciously. “Ah...bout?”

I make it easy for her. I change the topic willingly. “What can you cook?”

Her suspicion doesn’t fade. “...All...sorts of things. Rice... Chicken...” then suddenly it’s as if she’s really thinking about it, and she loses the tension in her face. “I can do pizza and fries, too... lots of other stuff...”

I gasp. “Pizza.”

“You want pizza?” She asks.

“Can I help?” I offer.

“I... guess so...” she says, eyeing me suspiciously once more. I grin at her. She turns on her toes and walks out of the room while continuing to speak. “But you’ll have to ignore the lack of ingredients. I didn’t buy a lot of things to put on a pizza… the last time I went to the grocery. I probably have enough for a cheese and pepperoni pizza. Or, if you want, we can just stick to the cheese, whatcha think?”

I consider it.

“Both! Both sounds good.”

***

(Malory)

It’s been hours. We’ve completely given up on keeping track of the time. Kyle and I are in the kitchen. We’ve just stuffed two pepperoni and cheese pizzas into the oven. I’m standing at the sink washing my hands when suddenly I’m pushed aside by the waist of a boy attempting to wash his own flour-covered hands under the warm water. I stumble into the corner. I glare at him. He plasters on a pseudo innocent smile, ignoring me.

I get this brilliant idea to grab an egg from the crate beside me and fling it at his head so I just do it. He gasps and pauses, turning to me as I belt out a heavy laugh. The egg yolk bursts and runs down his face.

It’s hilarious.

I dip my hand into the container of flour and reach towards him, tiptoeing and sprinkling the ingredient over his hair. He just lets me do it. I continue laughing.

“There! Now I can stuff you in the oven, too.” I laugh so hard that my stomach begins to ache.

He glares at me. “You’re lucky you had me worried sick earlier about you not breathing otherwise you’d be looking like clown with a face full of flour too, Lloyd!”

He takes a step towards me. I step backwards. Eventually, there’s no more space for me to go backwards so I bump into the counter behind. He leans in. He grins and takes a deep breath in. Then, when I think he’s going to speak, I feel an egg crack right over my head.

“Oh, you are so dead!” I tell him.

Before we both realise what we’re doing, there are eggs flying about the room, and flour filling the air and the floor, the cupboards and the counters. Everything is a mess by the time Kyle and I lean against the counters to breathe –to laugh –to breathe.

“You look ridiculous,” I tell him, inspecting his egg-covered cream T shirt and flour-covered, no-longer-black jeans. His hair –sticky with raw eggs- is plastered over his face, and there is flour covering every single spot of skin where the egg could manage to capture a grain.

“You’re one to talk!” he defends.

I realise he’s right. I don’t look very different from him.

I run a hand through my sticky hair. “I hate that you’re right.”

We take a few moments to ease up our laughter and to calm ourselves before Kyle speaks.

“Hey... um…”

I turn to him with a small smile. “Yea?”

He sighs through his nostrils and releases the tension from his shoulders. He extends a hand towards me. “Friends?”

Friends?

Kyle Davidson wants to be my friend.

Oh yea, pigs are definitely flying.

I stare at his extended hand before looking up at his face directly. He’s genuinely smiling at me, but I can see the war between hope and doubt in his eyes.

...Friends?

***

“You, Malory M.V. Lloyd, accepted an offer of friendship from Kyle Davidson? Theee Kyle Davidson? Pigs must be flying!” Olivia says, truly overly ecstatic.

It’s Monday, and I’ve been listening to her ramble about this since she got to school this morning.

I scoff. “It’s not going to change anything much, anyway, Olive. He’s still a piss-off and I’m still going to always find genius ways to insult him and give great comebacks. We’ve just set boundaries and limits… I think. That’s all.”

“But theeee Kyle Davidson,” she reiterates, looking up at the ceiling, speaking dramatically. “Oh Lord, who knew this day would come?”

Drama Queen.

I roll my eyes. We head to a lunch table.

***

(Kyle)

“I can’t believe you’re actually serious about this,” Ron says, as we walk into the lunch line. He’s laughing so hard his dimple is popping out.

It’s been hours since I relayed this news to him. I’m bored of the excitement now.

I sigh. “Well, believe it, Roomie. I mean, at the end of this whole play nightmare, we might just happen to go back to the way things were, but we’re both genuinely trying. Plus, I kinda like the idea of Malory Lloyd not insulting me or pissing me off every time we see each other. Sounds like a dream.”

Ron continues to ramble until we’re out of the lunch line.

We find ourselves over at Malory and Olivia’s table.

***

(Malory)

Kyle smirks at me. “Hi, friend.”

He drops into the seat beside me while Ron sits beside Olivia. I don’t have to look at them to know that they’re staring at Kyle and me like we’re some thriller climax just waiting to happen.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Davidson,” I say to remind him. “We’re cooperating for the play. I still think you’re a thick-headed twat.”

He clutches his chest, melodramatically. “I feel the love.”

Adrien spots us and walks over just as we begin to eat. Kyle stops smiling the minute he arrives.

“Hey!” he says, glancing between Olivia and I.

I smile at him while biting into my burger. “Hey, Adrien.”

I remember to keep myself guarded around him. He’s always seemed like a pretty shallow guy in my opinion –despite his story.

But after learning that he’d kept Kyle’s secret from us, I’ve become more guarded somehow... if that’s even possible.

Adrien switches his gaze between Kyle and me saying, “Should I… take a picture? The rivalry is having a peace offering lunch together!”

I manage a believable fake laugh. “Oh, that won’t be necessary. The peace talk was just about as much as I can deal with. I don’t need photo proof.”

“Oh, so you guys are actually getting along?” he asks, taken aback.

I don’t know if it’s just me, but I feel like Kyle and I internally high-five each other when he says this. We don’t have to look at each other to know that Adrien feels sort of defeated.

“Mmphmm!” I mumble, biting into my burger again.

Then Kyle has to go and spoil everything. He scoffs, looking up directly at Adrien. “Why? Does it bother you that we’re friends?” He tosses an arm over my shoulder and attempts to pull me in but I resist slightly. I grimace but I don’t resist the gesture. Kyle raises a brow at Adrien, smugly. I swallow my big bite and open my juice to drink a mouthful.

“No, not at all,” Adrien says, casually. Too casually. “Does it bother you that you have a bruise the size of your ego on your face?”

My juice flies out of my mouth and lands on the table in front of me. Ron jumps out of the way and Olivia almost gags at me. Kyle goes wide-eyed and his arm stiffens around my shoulder. Adrien stands up straighter and folds his arms over his chest, smirking.

“B-bruise on your face?” Ron asks, confused and worried.

“What are you talking about?” Olivia asks Adrien, puzzled.

I turn to Kyle.

Both Ron and Olivia turn to us, anticipating an explanation.

***

Adrien Evans.

I mean I knew he was a jerk but what a goddamn sell-out.

He let the cat out of the bag and just left us to deal with the mess ourselves.

When he’s gone, the only real conflict left is to tell Ron and Olivia about what happened.

Kyle reluctantly drags his long, straight black hair out of his face to reveal the healing bruise to them for a second. They gasp and he drops his hair back over his face.

“I can explain,” he says calmly.

“Yea, well you better!” Ron demands.

“It happened while I... wasn’t at school... I... I... well...”

I honestly can’t bear to watch this boy struggle with excuses. I roll my eyes, point my half-eaten burger at them and explain it for myself. “He got into a fight.”

“You didn’t have to say it like that!” Kyle yells at me.

Pick up on the lie, Davidson.

I turn to him to give him the memo. “What? You wanted me to cover it up? Oh, I’m sorry. You were working so hard on hiding the truth I couldn’t see that you were about to lie.”

Play along, Davidson.

“Wait a minute... Mal?” Olivia says taken aback. “You knew about this and you didn’t say anything?”

Ron stares at Kyle blankly. “I’m deeply offended that this information was kept from me –and yet, pleasantly unsurprised.”

“He didn’t want anyone to know about his petty little encounter at the mechanics’,” I say to cover for him. “I told you Ron, I told you when he was sick that even though he should’ve been in bed. All he wanted to do was move around. Apparently being that sick made him mentally deficient and he decided ‘Well, I’ll still go to work and maybe today I’ll be a grumpy, prickish brat and complain to the customers and get caught up in a fight.’”

Kyle scoffs. “Jee, thanks, Malory.”

“You’re welcome.” I say, beaming.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ron asks Kyle, genuinely upset.

“What would you have been able to do?” Kyle asks him, picking a fry off Ron’s plate and shoving it into his mouth.

Ron slams his hand down on the table in frustration. “You could have at least told me. You really can be an inconsiderate asshole, Kyle. It’s no wonder why you don’t have that many friends.”

He stands.

“Whoa... chill, Roomie...” Kyle says. Ron starts walking away. “Ron...” he says again, Ron storms off and flips him the bird, “Dude, seriously?”

Ron drops the rest of his food into the bin and returns his tray, leaving the cafeteria. Kyle sighs in frustration and I stare blankly ahead, unsure of what to do. My mouth is open in shock. I turn to Olivia –who’s sipping the last bit of her coke through her straw- draining the bottle of its contents and deliberately stressing on the sound of the straw against the almost-empty container. She squints at me in suspicion.

“Olive,” I say.

“Cheap. That was cheap, Malory,” she says.

She stands, leaving her food on the table and heading after Ron. Kyle and I watch her leave. We turn to each other.

“Well that went well,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“They’ll get over it, eventually,” I say. “Just give them some time to cool off.”

“I don’t know...” he replies, biting his bottom lip and staring blankly ahead, “I do piss Ron off a lot. I can be pretty inconsiderate. I just hope it wasn’t enough to lose him forever.”

“Just be glad they didn’t find out the truth,” I suggest. “And don’t worry about those two. They’re the kind of people that get mad because they care.”

“Like you?” He asks.

I scoff and turn to find him already staring at me. His eyes move up and down my cheek before finding my eyes and staying fixed there.

“Yea. Like me.”