The Cover-Up [4]

(Malory)

The minute I get Kyle’s number I save it to my contacts list. I can’t ignore the ache in my stomach or the pain in my head. I can’t ignore the pins and needles poking under my feet or the numbness of my chapped lips or my shaking fingertips. I drag a hand through the left side of my hair, exposing the few streaks of silver amongst the vast canvas of jet black strands. I groan in frustration. I look up at my front door, sighing and fumbling through my bag for my keys. I open the door, stepped inside, and proceed to slam the front door aggressively behind me as I flick the light switch on. I drag my feet into the kitchen and pull out a carton of cookies and cream ice cream from the freezer and a spoon from the dish drainer, carrying on with my stride into the living room. I drop my bag onto the floor and collapse unto the couch with my carton in hand. I switch the television on and stare at the program on the screen mindlessly. I can’t hear what the people are saying at all. I can’t even see them quite clearly.

I’m not sure how long it’s been before I’ve finally snapped out of my trance, but now my ice cream is half melted, and my eyes slow their way over to my schoolbag –the thought of pulling out my phone popping into my head.

Should I call him?

Should I ask if he’s okay?

Would he even want to talk to me?

Of course not. I’m not his friend.

He wouldn’t even talk to Ron.

But I can’t let go of what I’d seen.

And I can’t let go of the urge to be there for him.

After fighting with myself over the matter, I stretch over in an attempt to grab the bag and drag it onto the couch while not moving off the seat and it takes me almost forever before I finally get a hold of the strap. I pull the bag up onto the cushion beside me and take out my phone, switching it from hand to hand, trying to decide whether to go through with checking in on Kyle or not. I eventually stop stalling, and just stare at the device, frowning.

I decide to text Ron first.

If Kyle replies to Ron, maybe he’ll reply to me.

Me: I think if you message Kyle you’d get through to him now... maybe you should try it.

Ron: Really? Okay thanks I’ll try it now

Me: Tell me if he does, okay? If he doesn’t he’s probably just sleeping. But seriously, don’t worry. He’ll be fine.

Ron: oh, Mal! I forgot to ask you this over the phone... did his uncle leave yet? Or did you meet him? Is he still there?

Me: I didn’t meet him. Kyle was up trying to move around because he was feeling ‘like a dead bug just lying in bed all day’ and that was his poor excuse for answering the door for me.

Ron: Oh... but is his uncle still there?

Me: Yea. I don’t know if he was out or sleeping or what, though.

Ron: Did Kyle say when he was leaving?

Me: We didn’t exactly have time to talk about his uncle... he really wasn’t feeling too well. Davidson is too stubborn for his own good. He should have stayed in bed.

Me: Then again, I’m glad he answered the door for me.

Ron: Sounds like the Kyle I know, alright.

Ron: He replied

He replied.

...Which means he might reply to me...

Ron: Thanks, Mal.

Me: no problem. byeeee

Ron: byeeee

I hesitate, but then I realise who I’m hesitating over and I shove the whole thought of hesitation and fear aside. This is Kyle Davidson. He’s not anyone more to me than someone I’m merely worried about at the moment.

Me: hello, fellow associate

Kyle: ...who’s this?

Me: take a wild guess, clueless

Kyle: oh... Lloyd

Kyle: it’s you

Kyle: how do you keep getting all this information about me?

Kyle: psycho much? are you a stalker?

Kyle: do I have to report you to the police?

Me: Kyle

Me: are you alright?

Kyle: that’s not a correct answer

Kyle: don’t answer my question with a question

This dork!

Me: I’m serious, Davidson

Kyle: yea, yea, I am alright. I am alright and I was alright before you barged into the compound and I will be alright tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that.

That hurt my heart.

It genuinely hurt.

Me: Kyle...

Kyle: what?

Me: :(

Kyle: ... sigh.

Kyle: fine :( FINE!

Kyle: my face hurts like hell

Kyle: and my lip is hurting so much and I can’t put anything in my mouth without its disgusting feeling of mushiness and I hate it

Kyle: and my eyes hurt even though nothing’s really wrong with them.

Kyle: and even though I’m telling myself I can feel less of the pain when I fall asleep

Kyle: I CAN’T FALL ASLEEP

Me: :(

Me: How long do you think it’ll be before you heal properly?

Kyle: well, there’s a reason I have my hair the way that it is... I don’t know I don’t keep up with when things heal and when they don’t anymore.

Me: and you’ve had that hairstyle for a while now, too...

Kyle: yea.

Me: you should get checked out by a doctor. I’m serious. I’ll go with you if you want. I will.

Me: I really, really will...

Kyle: Hey Malory?

Me: yea?

Kyle: I’m... sorry

Me: what for?

Kyle: for... a lot of things. For aggressively shaking and yelling at you this evening. For pushing you against the locker... and the bullshit I said about your dad... I...

Kyle: I’m really really sorry...

Kyle: I am

Kyle: I’ve been an absolute prick

Well, I mean you’re still a prick, Kyle, it’s just that I’m not entirely keen on you being beaten up by anyone besides me. I’m kind of selfish with my punching bags.

Me: Shut up, Davidson, Don’t make me cry. I’m on the verge of tears just thinking about this evening and you. I have an awful headache and stomach ache. I’m so thankful tomorrow is Saturday.

Kyle: Don’t you work on Saturdays?

Me: I do.

Kyle: How could you celebrate a weekend knowing you still have to work? I work on weekends and I basically hate every single day of the week.

Kyle: Oh I talked to Ron by the way

Kyle: nice cover story about the fever, Lloyd. I guess your smartass mouth can be of good use sometimes.

Me: yea well I’m a skilled liar. I’ve got a way with words.

Kyle: I know that.

Kyle: believe me, I know it.

Me: do you have painkillers?

Kyle: they don’t work. I’ve tried just about every kind there is to get in a drug store. They ...wear off after a while. All of them. You know?

Me: JEEZ I’M SO MAD

Kyle: don’t get any more worked up over it tonight. You said you had a headache and a stomach ache. Go get some rest. I’m going to try to sleep, myself.

Me: okay. Promise me you’re actually going to try.

Me: Kyle.

Me: Promise me.

Kyle: I promise.

Kyle: goodnight, Lloyd :)

Me: night, Davidson.

I know he isn’t going to keep his promise, but part of me is hoping he’ll at least try.

Strange as it feels, I have to admit having a genuine conversation with Kyle for the first time...

It felt... well...

Nice.