[15] The Week of Re-evaluation

(Malory)

It’s been days. Olivia still hasn’t spoken to me. Why hasn’t she? Why hasn’t she? Is she really that mad at me this time?

My message tone rings. I find myself being grateful that someone could distract me from all my late night work even for a minute.

Kyle: Is Ron actually a menopausal housewife with bipolar issues? He hasn’t replied to me in three days, he hasn’t answered my calls... he hasn’t even nodded in my direction.

Me: Well maybe you should take into consideration that that’s exactly how you treat him on a daily basis

Me: and to stretch my point, he’s felt that way for years

Me: …or however long you guys have been friends, anyway

Kyle: That’s ridiculous! I know I don’t say a lot and I’ve managed to keep quiet about my personal shit from the beginning but

Me: ...

Me: ?

Me: But?

Kyle: I don’t know, my mind went blank

Me: -_-

Kyle: I don’t exactly have a normal excuse for being an asshole, Lloyd

Kyle: A reasonable enough excuse that I can tell Roomie, anyway

Me: Why do you call him that?

Kyle: we were roommates at a summer camp that we both went to just before freshman year started. That’s how we met. The summer camp was on reserved lands where there was a main house and then log cabins... hot, mosquito infested cabins.

Daunting. Truly.

Me: you shared a bunk?

Kyle: we shared a bunk.

Me: aaahhh. Okay.

Kyle: Anyway, back to the point. I kind of feel like I’m dying

Me: get over it, drama queen, Olivia is ignoring my existence too

Kyle: Yea but I’ve had to put up with you for the past three days by myself. Do you know how calming it is, knowing that I usually have Ron beside me so I don’t pummel you into the ground?

Me: you’re such a feculent superficial blight upon society.

Me: I thought we were FRIENDS.

Kyle; yea but you’re so annoying

Malory: thanks.

Kyle: How much more time does he neeeeeed?

Me: Kyle Austin Isaac Davidson. I am doing homework and I have THREE essays to finish writing for the morning. I hope you understand that you’re not the hopeless case in this situation.

Kyle: Whoa since when do you call me by my full name?

Kyle: That’s so weird.

Kyle: Please never do that again.

Kyle: Also, that’s not fair! I don’t know your middle names, Lloyd.

Kyle: That’s not fair at all.

There’s really nothing special about my middle names. I just don’t like people knowing them. I don’t find them to be relevant at all.

And besides –everyone’s got to have some sort of mystery to them.

Me: Life isn’t fair. Wake up and smell the coffee.

Kyle: what do girls do to get their friends to forgive them?

Me: Heck, I don’t know. Her favourite snack? Usually she would have forgiven me by now. If I knew the answer, I’d have told you. I’ve really got to go, Kyle. I’ve got work to do. Seriously.

Kyle: okay, okay. Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.

The conversation ends and I almost want to pelt my phone at the wall just thinking about how frustrated all this homework makes me.

How could I have let myself fall so far behind?

It used to be so easy for me to keep up. Despite being ahead, I never had a problem just getting the daily homework done.

Maybe it’s just that these past few days have been rough.

They’ll pass.

Maybe.

I hope.

***

I’m a complete wreck today. There are sagging blue-black bags under my eyes. My hair is a mess. I’m practically sleep-walking.

As I drag my way into the school, the sudden feeling of an ice cold hand appears on both my shoulders. I tense up and my eyes go wide. I’m startled into complete awareness. I jolt and turn to push the douche right in his arm.

“Oh my god, Kyle! Why is your hand so cold?”

He’s looking sharp this morning.

Hmm… maybe sharp isn’t the word.

Neat.

His jet black hair isn’t all that badly covered over his face and he’s wearing a violet long-sleeved shirt that… actually doesn’t look too shabby on him. It’s not tight and awkward-looking. He’s fit enough to model it nicely. His eyes are bright, too. Cognac brown is still brown… and brown is often seen as such a dull colour for a pair of eyes. I never thought I’d say that brown eyes could ever look more alive –more vibrant. He brings them to the spotlight as they shine, crinkle and curve upwards.

And though I’ve seen this shirt one too many times before, and though I’ve glared right into those same brown eyes a thousand times over, and though I usually want to chop his hair off and fix it myself every time I look at it, I admit to myself that I’m seeing things in a new light and that Kyle...

Well…

He’s not the worst-looking guy in the world.

The jeans are spoiling the outfit, though. They’re black -like they always are with him- and ripped at the knees.

So much for Kyle being entirely classy.

I can’t keep my expectations too high when it comes to him.

I bet he’s going to pull the exact same outfit stunt for graduation; Half classy, Half-assed.

I silently observe him. I don’t want to comment on the outfit. I stay quiet. I’m too tired for this anyway.

“Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t the only one still receiving a cold shoulder,” he says, smugly. “You know, there’s this new iced coffee on sale at that small shop up on the hill –it’s a miracle in a cup. I feel like I’m going to be awake all day.”

Wow.

Someone’s in a good mood.

I grimace and groan. “I feel like rope was tied to my waist and I was dragged halfway across the continent behind an old bus.”

“Did you get all your work done?” he asks.

I lazily reach into my bag and pull out my essays. I sigh as I watch the product of my sleeplessness. “The sacrifices we make for education.”

Inside, Olivia and Ron are standing by her locker and talking. By the time we spot them, they’ve already spotted us. Olivia swallows as she stares at me. Then she gently tugs at Ron’s sleeve and they walk away. I look up at Kyle. He’s frowning. He looks down at me and shrugs. We walk over to my locker. I start piling books in and taking others out.

“She’s not usually like this. Usually we’d make up the same day that we fight. She’s not replying to my messages, or answering my calls... just like Ron.”

“I think they’re spending way too much time together,” Kyle says. “They’re really starting to wear off on each other.”

Starting to?

They’ve always been like twins, in my opinion.

“They're exactly the same, dummy. They've always been exactly the same. We're the two fireballs and they're the water we fall into, disastrously unsuccessful.”

Moron Monroe turns to me with a stupid idea. “Maybe we should tell them the whole story.”

“Which story?” I ask.

The one about your uncle?

Yea. Sure. Let’s see how that tale ends.

“About the fight,” he says. “I mean, I can't act to save my life and Ron would know I'm lying, but... you can tell Olivia the whole story, and then tell me what you told Olivia and I'll tell Ron the same thing. Easy. Let’s just get this stupid silent thing over. It’s starting to give me more anxiety than my messed up personal life.”

“I'm not telling her anything,” I state. “You aren't telling him anything. They're allowed to be as upset as they want. They'll calm down eventually and forget the whole thing. I probably deserve this punishment, anyway. I treat my best friend like crap a lot. I deserve to know what it's like to be truly alone. Maybe I forgot.”

“You're alone? What am I, then? Air?”

“You might as well be.”

He looks at me pointedly. “Thanks. I’m really feeling the love –from everyone.” He rolls his eyes.

I grab some pencils and pens from the bottom shelf, close my locker and turn to him.

“Look, whatever we end up telling people, whatever we end up telling them, whatever happens after this, we made a deal about what we weren’t going to say. There are two things we’re never going to bring up in the presence of others. Do you remember what those were?”

“No, Lloyd, it’s not like you’ve reminded me a million times within three days,” he says, sarcastically.

I glare at him and point a pencil at his face by the eraser. “Shut your trap or I’ll shut you down. I will not have people getting the wrong impressions of me because of something your amateur-acting-ass says.”

Kyle leans against the locker beside him and stares down at me with a smug expression and I want to smash a brick at his face to erase it. “What if I do tell someone?”

“I’ll give you a special hug.”

He raises a brow. “Oh?”

“Yea. A tight one with both my hands around your neck.” I smile cheekily at him.

His expression changes from smug to bored. He retreats towards his locker without another word.

***

(Olivia)

It’s late Thursday night. Ron came, worked, and left. I attended to church activities and returned home not too long ago. I check the clock. It’s after nine. I’m ready to sleep but I can’t put my mind at ease.

Me: I think I finally figured out why I’m so upset

Ron: Finally? Wait, you were trying to figure out a reason for that?

Me: I never stay mad for this long but I’m starting to pity the poor souls. They only have each other now. How do you think that’s going to work?

Ron: True... then why are you so mad? I was just thinking maybe I’ll let Kyle fly on his own for a while. I only have a couple months before graduation, I’m not going to spend it wishing I knew more about my own mysterious best friend. Plus, Kyle has been a dick, overall. He needs the alone time so he can re-evaluate himself as a person. I’d honestly consider it a personal achievement leaving him alone. It might help him to improve on his attitude towards others before he leaves high school.

Me: I’m mad because three UNLIKELY acquaintances know that Kyle was injured, Ron. Kyle, Malory and ADRIEN. Adrien and Malory are okay with each other, yes, yes, I know, but Kyle and Adrien? They’ve been like fire and oil since the beginning...

Ron: Do you think he had something to do with the fight?

Me: I’m thinking that it’s possible. No specific person was mentioned when the fight was mentioned.

Me: I have a way of finding out the whole story, though.

Ron: You do?

Olivia: Yea.

Olivia: Leave it to me.

***

(Kyle)

It’s Friday. Malory and I are sitting at a table in the cafeteria. She’s got her head resting on her arms, on the table. She looks exhausted. I’m eating my mashed potatoes and feeling uneasy as I stare at the uneaten burger on her tray.

What’s wrong with her today?

She’s obviously not breathing very calmly.

Is she having another one of those asthma attacks?

I pause from chewing. “Are you okay?”

She nods but doesn’t raise her head.

“You haven’t been yourself all week,” I say. “And I’m including the fact that you’ve been less offensive towards me. But I mean… you seem more exhausted than usual. Has this week really been that bad?”

She raises her head to look up at me. She swallows and struggles to meet my eyes. I rest my spoon down and turn my body towards her slightly.

“I’m fine. I’m just...” She trails off.

A few moments pass and she doesn’t say anything. She’s staring behind me and I turn to see that she’s only staring at a wall. She’s only staring blankly. I turn back to her and wave a hand in front of her face.

“Earth to Malory Lloyd. You’re just what? You have to tell me what’s bothering you, now. Seeing you like this is making me depressed. Usually I’d be laughing at you.”

She shrugs and pouts lazily. She finally finds my eyes with hers. “It’s been a whole week. I can’t even find the courage to message Olivia about things that are bothering me. I know she won’t reply.”

“So something is bothering you,” I say, turning completely towards her. “Do you not… trust me enough to tell me what is it? I think I’m all you’ve got, right now.” I offer her an awkward but genuine smile.

In a low tone, she says, “You may not understand it, Kyle, but...” she sighs, “My best friend is my rock. I took advantage of the fact that she was always around and eventually I believed that she always would be. She promised me. I promised her.” She looks away from me. “You understand. It’s not like I have anyone else to be there for me. Mom’s busy, dad’s gone, and... and Olivia... well she reminded me that I was still alive in some special best-friend type of way and that I deserved to have someone to rely on.” She turns back to me. “I know that that’s why Ron’s upset with you, Kyle. You know that, too. He wants to be there for you but you continuously shut him out. I’m not in any way dictating your friendship but I think you should at least be more open with him in some way or another.”

“And tell him what, exactly? Where I live so he could show up while my uncle’s home?”

“Does he...” she starts, but changes the sentence. “Why don’t you at least tell him what your mom and dad do for a living? He doesn’t know anything about your family and even after years of being your best friend he feels like he’s such a stranger in your world. Tell him why you live with your uncle. Tell him anything. You don’t have to elaborate... but just... let him know he’s worth trusting. He tries, Kyle. He really does. You don’t have to tell me everything. I’m not going to push it with the idea of you trusting me with all your personal information, but… Ron’s your best friend.”

Mom and dad.

...Mom and Dad.

…M…

I’m unable to swallow. I look away. I grab my drink from the table and take a big gulp. I stare blankly ahead while she waits in silence.

“No.”

“Kyle...”

“There’s nothing to say,” I say, quickly. “He knows my favourite colour. He knows my schedule –better than I do, sometimes- and… he knows the things I do to keep myself busy. He knows about my accomplishments and enough about my goals. If he feels like a stranger then I can’t really help that, Can I? He’s observant. He’ll learn what he needs to by being that way. And if there’s anything new that he notices he’ll always make a proper note of it. I don’t need to tell him anything.”

She frowns at me. “You suck at re-evaluation. You suck as a best friend.”

I scoff. “You’re one to talk.”

“I’m trying to clear this up with myself before I clear things up with Olivia,” she insists. “I’m trying, okay? Jeez.”

A tense moment passes between us. I take another big gulp into my juice and when I’ve halfway swallowed it I turn to find her staring at me with a curious look and a smile.

“Why are you staring at me like that? Do I look like a flying llama?”

She giggles. “I just realised something.”

I have never heard Malory Lloyd giggle like that.

What sort of interestingly amusing scene is this?

“What?” I ask.

“You suck at acting. And we have practice again this evening.”

I don’t. I don’t suck at acting. I just don’t want you to know that.

“Let me live!” I demand. “I obviously didn’t want to take part in all of this theatrical nonsense. I didn’t have a choice and you know it. Give me a break!”

What else am I supposed to say?

I knock my forehead down on the table in frustration.

She laughs again.

“I can’t give you a break. We’re co-stars. And friends.”

Okay, but really.

What made me think that asking Malory Lloyd to be friends was a good idea?

Then it hits me.

I sit up straighter to turn to her. “Do you think if we go to Mrs Bev right now and tell her that we’re friends… that she’ll take us out of the play?”

She raises a brow. “You skipped two practices, arrived late for the third one and then stormed off after we argued on stage. Yea, sure. I think Mrs Bev will totally believe that right now.”

I groan and run a hand through my hair.

“The bruise...” she says, her tone light, “it’s so close to finally being gone.”

Sometimes I forget that my hair-pulling could reveal my bruise. It’s such a natural reaction for me when I’m stressed.

“The ointment is a miracle,” I tell her. I breathe out a laugh and stare down at my plate. A few silent moments pass again before I turn back to her.

She’s staring at me with a smile.

Why is she staring at me?

Please stop.

I don’t know what to do when you do that.

“What’s with you?” I ask.

“It’s good to see you looking like yourself again,” she says. I chuckle. “And it’s sort of… pleasant… seeing you smile,” she continues, “and hearing you laugh. Just a month ago I wouldn’t have enjoyed it, but now... I think I’ve learnt to appreciate it.”

If I smile I’d probably seem like I’m blushing. If I turn away, I’d probably seem like a dick. What do I do?

Since when did Malory care about all that? I bend my head to stare at the table. I can’t help it. I can’t help it. I smile. She smiles, too. We turn away from each other and she finally begins to eat. In the middle of a bite, she turns to me.

“Kyle.”

“What? Don’t walk with your mouth full, you toad.”

“Shut up and listen. How about this? If you really need some help with the acting, you can always come to my place and we’ll practice.”

I can’t help but blink a few times at her. I’m genuinely surprised. “What?”

“I’m serious,” she says, finishing up on chewing and swallowing her food. “We can work on our parts, and it’ll give you another excuse not to be home when your uncle’s there. Plus, you’ve already been to my house. You know where it is and what it’s like. We could schedule in some proper rehearsals outside of school.”

The good thing about working for Ace is that he doesn’t give an active shit what I do with my life –as long as I answer his calls and do what he tells me to do when he tells me to do it. He doesn’t care as long as I don’t get in his way. He doesn’t care as long as I don’t make any part of my life an interesting opportunity for him to intrude or fuck things up.

I don’t mind the extra time away from home.

I’d just have to keep this kind of time-away-from-home on a lower profile. I don’t want him finding out about Malory.

At all.

“You’d really help me with it?”

She shrugs. “Well, if I’m stuck with you for this production, I might as well attempt to save us both from embarrassment in front of a live audience –three days in a row. I’d honestly feel like shit knowing I could’ve helped you to do better –especially since theatre isn’t your area of expertise. Plus, if rehearsals fly by and you don’t improve at all, it’ll seem like we never really tried getting along at all. It’ll reflect badly on me as the more experienced co-star.”

I wish I could tell you that you don’t have to do all of this.

But I won’t.

And something tells me I’m going to enjoy spending that time with you.

Even if I don’t want to admit it.

I consider it.

I look down at my unfinished mashed potatoes and pick my spoon up to finish it off.

I turn to Malory and nod.