Thoughtful(10)

My vision had hazed as a jolt of pain wrapped around my head. In case Dad wasn’t done with me, I’d instinctively raised my hands. He’d only yelled though. “I told you to make sure the lids on the garbage were tight! You did a half-ass job, and now there is garbage strewn all over the backyard! Go fix it. Now!”

I remembered my anger that that was what he’d been mad about. The fucking garbage? It still incensed me.

Denny had stepped to my side then. “We’ll go clean it up together, Mr. Kyle.”

Stepping forward, I’d put a hand on Denny’s shoulder to silence him. I hadn’t been sure how worked up Dad was, and Denny didn’t deserve any of his wrath. Not wanting him to become a part of our argument, I had shaken my head and told him, “No, you go upstairs. I got this.”

Impatient, Dad had shoved my shoulder back. I’d lost my balance, stumbled, and fallen on my ass. My wrist had wrenched as I’d landed on it, and I remember gasping in pain. Dad hadn’t cared. Glaring down at me, he’d snipped, “Quit wasting time and go clean up that mess you made before the neighbors see the pigsty you’ve let our house become.”

Irritated and hurt, I’d barked something at him that I never should have. “If you’d leave me the hell alone, I could go fix your precious fucking lawn!”

All the blood had drained from my face the second I’d realized I’d said that out loud. I’d talked back to Dad, and I’d sworn. Staring up at my father, I clearly saw the restraint slipping away from him, and I had known, without a doubt, that Denny being a witness didn’t matter anymore. My insolence had gone too far, and Dad was going to do his worst.

While I had gingerly risen to my feet, Dad had balled his hands into fists. I recalled closing my eyes, knowing what was coming. Go ahead, Dad. I’m ready echoed through my memories. Surprisingly, it had been Denny’s voice that had interrupted the ominous silence. “No, wait—”

There was a sickening crunch, then Denny’s body had collided with mine. I’d recovered in time to catch him as he’d started to fall, and when he’d looked up at me, there had been blood trickling down his split lip. He’d stepped in front of the hit for me, taken my pain. Dazed and disoriented, I had helped Denny sit on the floor, then squatted beside him.

Dad had just stood there, staring at us like we’d both spontaneously combusted. Then he’d shifted his gaze to his hands and murmured, “Jesus.” Without another word to us, he’d darted out of the kitchen like he was fleeing a crime scene.

I remembered shivering as I’d squatted beside Denny. I’d been so sure that Dad was going to turn on me after hitting Denny, punish me for unintentionally cracking the façade. At the time, I had been positive that he still would, once I was alone. That was when Denny had put his hand on my knee and said, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

When I had looked over at him, his lip had been bloody and swollen, but he hadn’t seemed the least bit afraid as he met my eye. Shaking his head, he’d soothingly repeated, “It’s okay.”

Scared, I’d started shaking my head like I had a nervous tic. My entire body was vibrating, like I was suffering from hypothermia. I couldn’t calm down. I was certain my dad would never let it go. He would get me. He would teach me a lesson. He would make me suffer.

Sitting up a little straighter, Denny had put a comforting hand on my shoulder and spoken words that no one had spoken to me before. “Everything is going to be okay. I’m here for you, Kellan. I’ll always be here for you.”

My fear had started diminishing as I stared into his calm eyes. He had seemed so sure…It had given me hope. And he’d been right. My dad had been so afraid of Denny telling someone what he’d done that he hadn’t laid a hand on me for the rest of the time Denny had stayed with us. It had been the best year of my life.





Waiting for Denny and his girlfriend to get here was a painstaking exercise in the art of patience. I tried to let time flow as naturally as possible, but there were moments when I literally stared at the clock and willed the hours to surge forward. But nothing helped, and every day seemed to be more sluggish than the last. I thought the anticipation of his arrival would make a blood vessel burst in my brain before he got here. Wouldn’t that be poetic?

I was really excited for Denny to hear my band. That was probably because he was the reason I’d started a band in the first place. Normally, my parents never would have agreed to let me do something like that, but after Dad had inadvertently slugged Denny, he was a lot more agreeable; in an effort to keep Denny happy so he’d keep quiet, I don’t think there was anything Dad would have denied him.