I sighed.
"Okay. Fine."
I hadn't finished, but I thought I heard someone. We discussed that I shouldn't have been rude to Avy the other day. He still wasn't over it. He couldn't stop saying I blew my chance of making new friends.
That was the understatement of the century.
I was practically useless in social matters. I wasn't in the need of a friend. I had him. He knew me. And it wasn't like he was going away somewhere. And if that ever happened, I would be okay with myself.
Maybe I wouldn't spiral as quickly as Jake Peralta did when he went to that prison hole.
Being alone is something I need. I'll become more muscular. Maybe.
Or more eccentric.
Fifty-fifty chances.
Mom and Dad were waiting for me. I wanted to run, but my ankle was still throbbing with a dull pain. But Anwir won the one-legged race I was secretly playing.
"Okay. These two haven't been gone that long," I taunted Anwir when he wouldn't leave them after a hug that lasted at least five Mississippis.
"When you love someone so much, an evening they're gone, you miss them."
"Ha, ha. Very funny," I said, my voice dripping in sarcasm.
I reached them. Peeling Anwir off, I hugged Dad first.
"Hey, buddy. Bruised already?"
"Grover, Dad."
And when I pulled off a little and looked at him, I regretted telling him that. He became all serious and looked like those WWE players.
"Let me talk some sense into him."
His voice was a little gruff, too. Yeesh.
"Uh, how about you don't do that?"
"Why?"
"Because you won't do the talking, your fist would. Anyway, what happened to the deal? Make it happen?"
There was a smug smile on Dad's face.
"What do you think?"
"You make me think that I can read faces. Congrats, Mom."
"Love you, buddy," she said, playing a little with my hair.
"Where's my congrats? That ain't fair."
He pretended to be upset. It was pretty convincing.
"Dad, you don't need it."
"That's better than congrats."
He looked at Mom teasingly. She shook her head dismissively. Anwir fist bumped with him.
It was slowly shaping up to be a great day.
Mr. Osman Harraway, who we all very lovingly call Ossie, Anwir's dad, was back home from his "expedition." Medea, Anwir's mom, had made a fantastic brunch. She's so sweet and petite; she should be inside a tree baking cookies.
They were setting the table while we were talking to my mom and dad.
"Hi," a voice said, sounding super nervous—a voice I recognized.
Oh, boy. Oh, no, no, no. Unprecedented situation. Not good. She was still here.
Mom lifted her head from her plate and looked back at Dad.
"Hi, I'm sorry."
And Mom hit us both boys on the back of our heads. She smiled lightly. Her face completely changed. What a smile can do to your face, huh?
"What?" "Huh?" were our reactions.
"You didn't tell me we had a guest."
"She's not a guest, exactly. She's a, um…" I trailed off. I didn't think we were pretty there to call her a friend. At least, I wasn't quite there. And thankfully, she picked up from there.
"I'm Andy Decker. I live a few blocks away from here. My family had to go somewhere, and I had to stay here."
Mom got up and went to her.
"I'm his mom," she said, pointing at me.
"Wait. So, you guys aren't…." she stopped mid-sentence, looking between me and him.
"God, no. He's already a pain in my-" he stopped abruptly and cleared his throat.
"Let's just say we're better off as friends."
I was going to kill Anwir.
"I'm more like an aunt to him," Mrs. Haraway said from behind.
"Sweet," the barista muttered.
"You're welcome to stay here. What will you have?" Mom asked.
"No. No. I've already caused enough trouble, and my family is back. So, I'm just going to slide." There was a ghost of a smile on her face. Something I realized that I do, too, when I'm awkward. Huh.
"No, no, don't be like that. And how's your grandma?" Medea asked from behind the counter.
"Oh. Gam-" she clears her throat not-so-subtly, "Grandma's fine. It was a blood pressure thing. It wasn't a big deal. I mean, it was, it was a big deal until-"
"Hey, hey. Relax."
She looked away.
"Social anxiety. Excuse me." Her voice was wavering a bit. It was like looking into a mirror, except the reflection was beautiful with big, curious eyes.
"That's okay. We're more familiar than we would like to be," Mom said, looking at me. Oh, she was talking about me. I had to stop her.
"Mom, she had to go, didn't she?"
If looks could kill, my mom's glare would've turned me into mush.
"I, um, she has to see her family and ensure they're fine, right?"
I didn't meet her eyes. I just couldn't. She made me nervous. Nervousness that's different than the usual one. Only some people knew what made me this nervous or all worked out. I didn't understand how the others didn't feel that way. Anwir once said that was because they weren't all freaks.
Uh, puh-lease. Agree to disagree.
"No, ma'am. That's fine. He's right. I have to go. I'm very sorry for interrupting your family brunch. And thanks for having me. I had a good time."
She smiled a little again. Despite what I told you last night? Just now? Wow. She had something past manners. She then left. And it might've been just one second after my mom shot me her icy look again.
"What now?"
"What was that? You were practically asking her to get out."
"Mom, cold feet. Okay? It's no big thing. We're friends. We'll sort it out. If it ever creates an issue. Emphasis on if."
The word 'friends' just rolled off. Miraculous things do happen every day.
"Hope it doesn't become a when, kid," Dad shot.
Anwir nudged me. I kicked him under the table. He wouldn't give up with the nudging. So, I decided to. Giving an exasperated sigh, I went back up. After pacing up and down my room for what felt like long enough, I strapped on my guitar and went to the previously occupied garden by Ma and Pa. By the time Andy was leaving, they'd headed out there. It was a little cute one where we all collectively grew plants. Instead, unique ones. Pa was a plant enthusiast. Suppose that's even a thing. He made the backyard look a thousand times more beautiful. He was the one who found a variety of plants, too.
That said, it included some age-old cures, too. But they didn't know, no one knew, that I made a secret way out of the backyard that would lead me directly into the burrow of a vast tree, which was said to be the first tree in this very city. That was my place when I needed to get some air—required to be away from everyone. Everything. Just catch a moment of peace—a moment with myself. I let out a part of my heart that was locked away long ago. I badly needed some time off right then. I started to work on the song I'd been trying to complete for almost two weeks. I repeated the part I'd already written and played before because I couldn't get anything new. But I had to finish that song. So, I sat there and decided not to leave until I did it. After about two hours or so, when I was still nowhere near completing the song, I checked my phone. Anwir's texts. Nothing to be worried about. Except, there were only two texts, none concerned about my location. He always kept reminding me that he was my brother. Wouldn't a brother worry about a sibling's whereabouts? Although, this wasn't new to me. Sighing, I looked at the texts.
Text one: "According to your IQ, you shouldn't be forgetting stuff, dick.
Ouch. That was harsh and offensive at the same time.
Text two: Not being here means you still don't remember what the thing is. No worries. Die.
Okay, I knew one thing. He was pissed. But nothing in those messages made sense except for my high IQ part. Then it clicked. Goddamn. Oh, didn't I mess it up badly? I ran back home. Throwing the guitar into the room, I raced down again. But when I looked at the time, it seemed useless. It was precisely two hours before we were supposed to finish it. How long was it there in the tree? Damn it. The door swung open, and Anwir came in.