Breakfast Buddies [1]

(Kyle)

I was twelve when the cruel reality of Ace’s power had finally hit me.

Stumbling into an abandoned gas station not too far a distance off from the active airport, a knapsack hanging over my shoulders and the seconds ticking down to midnight, my eyes are peeled open for the man in black. Beads of sweat trickle down my face. My anxious, sweaty hand closes into a tight fist. I search the location. Nightfall has covered the sky, making my weary eyes faulty.

Three tall men lean against the side of a black van near a dilapidated wall in the station –their faces entirely concealed. One man spots me and alerts his accomplice. The accomplice approaches me, heavy on his heel, towering over my short, frail body.

I feel a clump form in my throat. I’m too afraid to move.

The other men follow behind the first until I’m nothing but a shadow beneath them.

“A-Ace sent me,” I say.

One man inhales sharply. “Of course he did. Where’s my stuff?”

I shuffle quickly into my knapsack to find the small black bag weighing half a pound. I don’t know what it holds, and I don’t want to find out.

I extend my skinny, long arm with the bag and he takes it, a despicable grin creeping over his face resembling that of a mischievous cat. Then, not moments later, the smile fades.

“Where is the rest of it?”

The... rest?

My heart stops for a moment as the man pours his glare over me.

“I... I don’t know anything about it...” I say, lowly. “I swear! I’m just the delivery boy!”

“Well then, delivery boy,” he says, “You’ll be my messenger to Ace, too.”

A hard fist to my face knocks me to the ground. I stumble towards the broken fence near to me, desperately trying to move away from the men. Without hesitation, the other men attack me. I feel a hard kick strike my lower back –and with that, a sharp, electric pain runs up my spine.

I cry out, weakly, but there is no one to save me.

“Please!” I beg, crying. More punches. More kicks. “I don’t know anything.”

Eventually I’m motionless on the hard ground, feeling more and more numb with each impact, until eventually reality becomes too blurry to notice anything at all.

Whoever the leader is, he steps forward, bending towards my limp body. “Tell Ace that sending a child won’t change our agreement. I want all of what he promised me. He has three days.”

With that, he knocks me unconscious.

I wake up.

I’m sweating through my T-shirt, trying to catch my breath. I sit up, looking down at my trembling hands. I hit the tight knot aching in my chest , preventing me from breathing. The room is dark. There’s no sunlight shining in. It must be really late at night, or really early in the morning.

My message tone goes off once, twice, again... again... I grab the phone as the ringing continues, until I find myself having six unread messages, and eleven missed calls.

For a moment, I’m terrified, wondering if all of these notifications are from Ace. I’m thankful and pissed when I realise that it’s Lloyd.

Lloyd: Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey

Lloyd: Davidson

Lloyd: I have been trying to call you since five o’clock this morning do NOT ignore me

Lloyd: I know you’re up

Lloyd: you can’t seriously be asleep... it’s like half five

Lloyd: HELLOOOOOOOOO???????

I check the time.

My eyes go wide.

Lloyd.

Do you not have more important things to do than bother me at half five in the morning?

I sigh. Who am I kidding? This is exactly the Malory Lloyd I know. I inhale deeply and exhale sharply, calming myself. I call her.

She picks up after the second ring. “FINALLY! You’re up,” she says.

“IT’S FIVE THIRTY IN THE MORNING, LLOYD! What are you doing up this early? Don’t you live like... fifteen minutes away from school?”

“It is not early, Kyle,” she insists. “If I sleep in a minute over four o’clock I’m going to be late. I have to do everything myself, remember? I thought you were a busy person. You should know this. And you’re one to talk. Look at the distance away you’re living. It’s way further from school my house. You can’t make a valid argument about this.”

Smartass.

I roll my eyes.

“Why is your house so dark?” she asks. “You know, even though you live in a gated community you should still keep a light on outside at night. What if someone tries to rob you?”

You’re one to talk considering you live alone and you didn’t plan on staying out so late so you took a long shot and didn’t leave the lights on after we stayed out late at the medical–WAIT A MINUTE!

My eyes go wide. I jump off my bed. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUTSIDE MY HOUSE?”

“Oh my god, Kyle. It’s too early to be yelling, you possessed howler monkey. You’re going to give us both a headache.” She inhales deeply and sighs. “And come downstairs... I have something for you.”

Something for me? I wonder what it could be-

-Okay no. That’s not the point.

“Malory. If something happens to you because of your ignorance, I am not going to take responsibility for it. I’ve warned you about how dangerous it is, coming here. Multiple times.”

“I know,” she says. A short silence falls as I re-evaluate my existence wonder why Malory is a part of my life. “Sooooo....” she says, breaking me away from my thoughts, “you gonna leave me sitting here out at the front gate looking like a psychotic stalker all day?”

I scoff. “I probably should.”

“Hey!” she says, annoyed.

I hang up. I groan and turn towards my closed curtains. I stroll over to the window and move the fabric slightly to peek outside. The sun is just beginning to rise. The morning pastels are dull, but just enough to see where Malory is sitting. She stands after a few moments, pacing at the gate. She’s wearing a bright, closed-mouth smile on her face –a symbol of hope- and swinging her schoolbag back and forth, over her shoulder.

Look at her.

I catch myself smiling at her sappy, happy glow.

I can’t even find it in me to say that she’s pathetic right now.

But stupid. She’s still stupid.

Stupid for wanting to be here. Stupid for trying. Stupid for not taking heed of my warnings.

A golf cart drives by and stops in front of her. I look a little closer to find two senior men and a woman greeting her. She smiles at them brightly as they engage in a conversation.

I can’t help but watch. My arms relax into a fold over my chest as I look on. She interacts so well with others.

I guess I never would have known even half that sort of kindness were it not for her discoveries about me. I wouldn’t know it if we hadn’t been paired for that ridiculous play that still needs rehearsing.

The elders drive off. She waves as they leave. She turns to the house, studying it.

Her smile fades.

I find myself feeling guilty.

I open a new apple-scented body wash and new bottles of shampoo and conditioner. I undress and head into my shower.

If I’m actually going to be listening to Lloyd, I’m not going to let her think she’s winning. I’ll take my time. She’ll see me whenever I show up.

When I’m done in the shower, I brush my teeth until I can smell the spearmint scent all around me. I look at my face in the mirror above the sink.

The ointment that I’d gotten at the medical centre has been working. The bruise has changed from purple to yellow-green. It’s still awful to look at, but it’s better now than the way it was.

I get dressed. I pull out a neatly pressed white hoodie that was folded in my drawer, and a black pair of jeans. I slip into my favourite pair of black boots.

I return to the bathroom mirror to put on a fresh coat of the ointment on the bruise. I fix my hair over my face to hide it. I leave the bathroom, switching off the light.

I spot the doctor’s note on my desk. I pick it up and read it over again.

I scoff as I remember how Malory had helped me to get it. I turn to the window again, slowing my way over to peek outside. Malory is still there; standing, pacing, frowning. I wonder if she knows she looks crazy.

I shake my head and head down to meet her.