Before I Break (5 page)

“Let go of me,” she demanded, yanking her arm away.

“Wait—”

“No,” she said. “Now you think you can man-handle me? We’re over, Cyril. Goodbye.” She stormed off back into the parking lot and left me to sit there alone, wallowing in my irritation. Melissa had actually broken up with me all because of her dumb gay friend. Feeling completely angry, I pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward home. At least at home they understood how I felt. And later that night when Avery and I were going to hang out, we were going to have a blast.

When I got home, I found Jake sitting on my front porch, and as I would expect from him, he had a joint in his hand. Why had he been smoking pot so much? I understood that life could be hard sometimes, but now he was just being careless.

Walking up to him, I said, “Hey. What are you doing here?”

Jake was wearing the sunglasses again, probably trying to hide his eyes. “I came to see you, man…are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Melissa?”

While Jake was my best friend, I had to admit, there were some things he just couldn’t let go of. He was so nosey when it came to me and I really just didn’t get why. “Nothing is going on. Now are you going to come inside or sit outside blowing the smell around my yard? My parents would sure love to take a whiff of that when they pull in from work.”

Jake seemed to notice the sarcasm, so he put out the joint and followed me inside. I threw my bag down on the couch in the living room as he plopped onto the loveseat, making himself comfortable by throwing his legs of the arms of the seat.

“You’re lying…to me…” he said, sounding extremely delusional.

“You need a bath,” I replied. Sometimes I even wondered why I was still friends with this guy, and I was especially wondering the last couple of days. How much more downhill was this guy going to go?

There was always the debate of whether weed is healthy for humans or not. While science has proven it helps with a lot of things, my personal belief is that it should not be allowed to be used recreationally. To me, getting high is a way of altering your consciousness, and I do not believe that altering your brain for certain periods of times is a very good idea, which was why I quit in the first place.

If only I could get Jake to believe that.

“I need you to…tell me what’s going on…” Jake said slowly.

I felt my arm spasm as if I were about to take a swing. “Hey Jake? Shut up.”

He said nothing else as I went into the kitchen to grab a snack. Looking in the cabinets, I noticed that there wasn’t really much food. That would be dad, alright, eating everything we have in the house. You would think he’d get fat, but really he doesn’t--not even close. All that was left was a box of Cheez-Its, which I grabbed and brought out into the living room with me.

When I got back, I found Jake flicking the light on and off as he said, “Ow! Cyril, make it stop!”

“You’re the one doing it, moron,” I told him and gently grabbed his arm to carry him toward the couch with me. He sat down beside me and I went on. “Why are you doing this to yourself, Jake?”

He didn’t respond, but instead reached into the box of Cheez-Its and pulled out a handful. His sunglasses were a little sideways, so I fixed them and waited patiently for his response. As expected, I didn’t get one.

We sat there for a couple of minutes in silence, neither of us saying a word. Next thing I knew, Jake was out like a light and was snoring with no rhythmic beat. That kid really needed some nose plugs.

I took the blanket off of the back of the couch and placed it over him, then headed upstairs into my room. Taking a nap really did sound like a good idea right now. I’d go out with Avery, and then come back to try and knock some sense into my best friend. Hopefully when the high was over I’d finally be able to get through to him.

As I was getting ready to leave, I checked my Facebook to see that Melissa changed her relationship status to single. I, of course, followed suit and then posted a status about how great it felt to finally be single.

Walking downstairs into the kitchen, I noticed that dad wasn’t home. I realized he was probably off with his clients somewhere talking about how to get the judge to let their son off. Mom was in the kitchen, though, cooking dinner.

“I’ll be out for a bit,” I told her, grabbing my keys off the counter. “Save me some dinner?”

“Sure, sweetie. Where are you going? And why is Jake sleeping on the couch?”

“I made a new friend,” I told her. “His name is Avery Branson. He moved here from Summerville and I want to show him around town. And Jake is here because he was exhausted with school. We were hanging out and he just kind of fell asleep.”

Mom seemed to contemplate this for a moment. “Well, alright. I met the Branson’s the other day, actually. They seem really nice, though I haven’t met their son. Maybe you can invite him to Youth Group tomorrow?”

I doubted that Avery was the church-going type but I didn’t tell her that. “Sure,” I said. “Can I go now?”

When I was finally able to leave, I went to the cars and put on the radio as I drove down the road, turning left onto Main Street. Avery’s house wasn’t too far from here, so it would save me a bit of gas, and when I pulled into his neighborhood, I suddenly felt a little nervous. But why would I be nervous? He was just another guy. Though I had a little bit of something deep inside of me that was telling me otherwise, I tried to ignore it.

He lived in a nice condo just like most of the people I knew. It was painted a light blue and two cars were parked in the driveway, so I had to park on the side of the road. I got out of the car and walked up to the door, and that took me about five minutes because my nerves were really getting to me.

What is wrong with me? I thought as I stepped up to the porch. Relax.

A woman answered the door a moment after I knocked, smiling at me. “You must be Cyril,” the woman said, holding out her hand. “My name is Tina, Avery’s mom.”

Whoa. With one quick look at her, I realized either she had Avery really young or she was doing really well for her age. Tina looked as if she couldn’t have been a day over thirty, with her dark brown hair curled and not a wrinkle on her face. I swear, she could have been his sister. Leading me into the living room, I saw that it was nicely decorated with pictures all over the wall. The house was practically spotless, and I would have paid money to someone if they could have found a speck of dust. I assumed that Avery was upstairs getting ready to go, so I took a seat on the couch at the far end of the room, facing away from the stairs.

“Would you like something to drink?” Tina asked.

“No thanks,” I replied. “How long do you think Avery will be?”

She laughed. “Who knows? Could be two minutes, could be twenty. If I were you, I’d get comfortable.” Sitting down beside me, she said, “I really appreciate this.”

“Appreciate what?” I asked. This wasn’t the usual talk I got from people’s mothers, even my girlfriend’s—well, ex girlfriend. I should have taken the warning then, but how was I supposed to know what was going to happen?

“Being my son’s friend. He…doesn’t have many.” Tina looked a little sad, continuing with, “It’s not my place to tell you, and I’m sure when he gets comfortable enough, he’ll tell you the truth about why we moved here. Please, just be nice to him. He needs it.”

“Are you lecturing him?” a voice asked from the stairs.

Avery.

He changed into something more comfortable looking—straight fit blue jeans with a blue Aeropostale shirt. His Sperry’s had a little green patch at the top of each shoe, matching the blue thing he had going on.

“I’m not,” Tina said. “I was just telling him to be nice.”

There was something else going on here that I apparently wasn’t catching on to. Avery looked kind of mad, but I could tell he was trying his best to hide it.

“Well, okay then, why don’t you two get going,” Tina said. I’ll see you later, Avery. And it was nice to meet you, Cyril.”

“You too,” I said, not really sure if I meant it. Something weird was going on here, and I was beginning to regret my decision.

When we left, we headed to Town Centre, where I’d show him all of the stores and possibly get some ice cream if I had the money. Along the way, we talked about nothing in particular, just random little things here and there, up until we arrived at the Centre. As we got out of the car, I asked, “Do you like living in Mount Pleasant?”

He shrugged as we headed toward the bookstore. “It’s better than Summerville, but I don’t really like the South. It’s too hot.” He opened the door for me and I stepped through and into the store, thinking about what he said. Avery had a tone in his voice that made me think that maybe the heat wasn’t the only thing he didn’t like about it here. Deciding not to worry about it, we walked around, looking for new things to read.

The night was a blast as I expected. After we left Barnes and Noble, we headed over to the frozen yogurt place across the street. We talked about a lot of things—well, I talked a lot while Avery listened. It was weird, really, having someone else listen to me for once. I told him about all of the advanced classes I was taking, the football team that I wasn't on, and my family. I even mentioned our church, shockingly.

“Would you like to come with me to Youth Group tomorrow?” I asked. “My mom offered, so it’s okay if you want to. We can pick you up.”

Avery’s mood suddenly seemed to shift to something much darker. “I appreciate the offer, but no thanks,” he said with a hint of annoyance.

“Is everything okay?”

“Great,” he said. “I just didn’t know you were…a Christian.” He looked as if he was going to vomit as he said the C word.

“Is that a problem?” I asked, feeling defensive. I should have just dropped it then, but I had to antagonize him.

“No. No, no,” he said, taking a bite of his cotton candy fro-yo. “I have no issue with that at all. I’m actually a Christian, too. I just don‘t necessarily believe everything that the Bible says.” There was something else he wanted to say, that much I could tell, but he definitely wasn’t the type of guy who had a lot of confrontation to bring to the table. So, stupid me decided to pry.