The Week of Re-evaluation [4]

(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.