Chapter Forty-Six – [Memory, Senior Year, October] – Like Brothers
The last months had been a whirlwind. Lyn didn't know where to begin or where to end. The check sent by that man hadn't ended up being sacrificed at midnight like the sacrilege it was. Instead, it lay at the bottom of Lyn's school bag, among neatly arranged supplies like textbooks and pens. For some obscure reason, he couldn't bring himself to throw it away. It was a lot of money. If he hit rock bottom, he might regret throwing it away, so he kept it there, a slap hovering over his cheek waiting to happen. Beggars couldn't be choosers, and sons of women who entertained men as a way to put food on the table weren't supposed to have any pride. Arya knew nothing about it; he had gently probed her, and it was apparent she had no idea about the visit that horrible man had paid Lyn that day.
It had been quite a battle of wills to convince her that he'd be fine without her having to beg for charity left and right. Unlike his mom, Arya had better acumen when it came to managing her finances and offered him quite a generous sum of money out of her own pocket. Lyn had had to fight her on that front, as well. Only if he really needed the help, he promised.
Life was full of obstacles. He wouldn't run and hide. He was smart, right? He only needed to set in order everything his mom had left behind, but things were advancing slowly. At least, there wasn't anyone threatening to throw him out into the street for now.
Since he had a home.
"Whatcha doing?" Brad asked and pressed his chin hard on Lyn's shoulder, letting his entire weight rest on it while he pressed lightly against him from behind. "You're not depressed or anything, right? Mom told me I should keep you busy."
They were back home for the weekend, and Lyn got busy with everything he could get his hands on to help the Fosters as a meager means to repay their kindness. Brad truly didn't have to worry about that. Mrs. Foster had been quite flabbergasted to see him folding laundry with the precision of a competent hotel maid. Despite her protests, he had insisted he continue.
"I am busy," Lyn said, forcing himself to sound cheerful enough so Brad didn't feel like he needed to bend over backwards to entertain him. He was raking the fallen leaves in the backyard and only took a moment to rest when Brad arrived.
"You know," Brad teased, "this was my livelihood."
"What? Raking leaves?" Lyn asked with a snort.
"Yep. You've left me without ice cream money 'cause you're doing it for free."
Lyn snickered. "It's not for free. And I'll buy you ice cream, don't worry."
He couldn't pinpoint why, but the simple mention of ice cream made him think of Alexander. Alexander, who had been quite the stranger lately, much to his surprise. After the funeral, he had disappeared, seemingly caught up in a whirlwind of trips to places with posh exotic names, never available for a moment. Lyn hadn't thought much about it at the time, but now, since senior year had begun, the separation between Alexander on one side with Brad and him on the other, continued.
The few times Lyn had managed to talk to him for more than five seconds, Alexander had seemed in a hurry. His face was drawn, and he seemed upset. Lyn struggled hard to convince himself that it wasn't because the truth about his mom had to be out in the open now. The escort who went down with the plane, along with her client. Alexander's parents had to have heard about it; they had to be at least a little curious about who their heir apparent was hanging out with. Or maybe not his parents, just his grandfather, that hard unrelenting man in a wheelchair Lyn had met that time. Not met, that wasn't the correct word; only seen.
Alexander always behaved like he couldn't care less about the world and what it thought of him. But his family had to be a different thing. Hence the coldness seeping into their friendship, freezing it into nothing.
"Then let's do it," Brad drawled in his ear.
"I have to finish up here," Lyn insisted. He jolted as Brad stuck his tongue in his ear suddenly. "Brad!" he exclaimed, jumping a foot away and rubbing his ear.
Brad guffawed like a kid. "You should see your face. Come on, my folks won't care, and my dad needs the exercise anyway. Let's go."
Lyn hesitated for another second, which only gave Brad the opportunity to attack him again. This time, Brad lifted him off the ground, his arms wrapped tightly around Lyn's thighs, and started running with him.
"Brad, put me down!" Lyn shouted while barely keeping his balance. He grabbed Brad's t-shirt at the back and held on for dear life since his friend showed no sign of letting him go.
That only happened when they were out in the street. Not even Brad wanted to let the entire neighborhood witness his shenanigans, so finally Lyn was off the hook. They were both breathing hard when Brad put him down. Lyn stared at Brad for a long moment and then threw himself at his friend to give him a tight hug.
"Thank you, man," he said. "For real."
"Hey, don't go all mushy on me, I mean it," Brad warned him but patted his back all the same. "Didn't I tell you we were going to be like brothers?"
Words like that reminded Lyn of older wounds. But he realized now they didn't matter and there was a chance they could turn into scars that would fade with time. Real pain was different from a silly unrequited crush.
He couldn't ask for more or he'd be too greedy. He had Brad's friendship, and it was the most amazing thing in his life right now and, most likely, forever.
They were like brothers, indeed. And Lyn wouldn't want it any other way.
***
"Hey," he began as they strolled out of the shop, holding one ice cream in each hand and more in the bag hanging from Brad's right arm, "do you know anything about Alexander? Like what he's doing right now? He's barely at school, and it's not like him at all."
Brad shrugged. "He's skiing in Switzerland or Austria or some other country in Europe where they do that."
"When did you talk to him last?" Lyn continued his probing.
"Hmm, let me think. We texted like two days ago or so." Brad munched on his ice cream. He liked to bite into the cold dessert with gusto, making Lyn's teeth feel all tingly.
So, it was only him Alexander didn't text with. Lyn had sent a couple of texts, mostly to say 'hi', but there had been no reply.
"He's not texting me back," he said. "Did I do something to make him mad at me?"
Brad stared at Lyn as if he was witnessing his friend sprouting another head on the spot. "His Majesty, mad at you? Fuck no."
"Ah, that only means he didn't tell you. I wonder what it could be," Lyn added, mostly to himself.
Brad prodded his shoulder, unsteadying him for a moment. "Nothing happened. His Majesty tells me everything. And getting mad at you would be huge. He wouldn't keep a thing like that from me."
"Are you sure?"
Brad laughed, showing his carefree side once more. "Yeah, I'm sure. Alexander is not mad at you; he's mad about you. Who else could face him in one of his endless arguments? For real, dude, when I watch you two go at it, it's like watching a clash of the titans. Only intellectual. Which, normally, for me, would be so boring, but you and His Majesty make it fun. You two should start a podcast or something."
Lyn snorted, not entirely convinced that Brad was right. For all his obnoxious personality, Alexander wasn't the type of guy to ghost someone without a serious reason. This lack of communication made Lyn think that he had to do something.
It was also out of character for Alexander to skip school in favor of ski trips and the like. It had never happened before.
"Maybe I should just call him and ask him what's up," he said.
"Yeah," Brad said with a shrug. "Wait," he turned his head, narrowing his eyes while taking Lyn in, "are you saying I'm not enough of an intellectual challenge for you or what? What do you need His Majesty for? Also, we'll see him in school sooner or later. It's not like he can skip classes forever. His wealthy class armor is not that thick, I guess."
"You're not a challenge for me," Lyn said, bumping his shoulder into Brad's, mimicking his friend's action from earlier. "You're my brother. My younger, sillier brother."
Brad guffawed. "I'm only like three months younger than you, you asshat."
"Yeah, but does it show?" Lyn teased his friend some more. "I'll call Alexander," he decided. "There's no chance he'll keep ghosting me if I do that, right?"
"No chance whatsoever," Brad assured him.
***
But there was a chance, it seemed. Lyn let the phone ring until it went to voicemail. Again. For the umpteenth time in three days, Alexander wasn't picking up when he called. Lyn didn't dare ask Brad if the same thing happened to him, because it looked like Alexander was, after all, upset with him for reasons only he knew.
The thorn in his side was the thought this was related to news about his mom and her choice of profession making its way to Alexander's parents' ears. He tried to tell himself that it was narcissistic of him to believe such wealthy people would even care to do a background check on him, but there wasn't any other reasonable explanation.
He'd seen Alexander very little after the funeral. If it was something he had said or done, there couldn't have been time for him to make such a big faux pas to warrant the loss of Alexander's friendship.
A group of girls went past him on their way to class. They were whispering in low voices, looking like they were in possession of the kind of gossip that wasn't easy to come by. Lyn had to go in the same direction, so he followed them at a close distance, his mind still filled with doubt about Alexander and the reason he wasn't taking any of his calls.
"I kid you not," one of them said. "Yeah, like he had a breakdown or something. He's in therapy."
"I don't buy that. Can you imagine him in therapy?"
"It's not therapy," a third one intervened, rolling her eyes with self-importance. Because she kept her head turned, Lyn could easily read her expression. "It's like a retreat. For rich people. Where they go to treat themselves for the blues or whatever. Basically an all-inclusive spa."
She was about to add something, when her eyes fell on Lyn. The moment she noticed him, she made a face like a cat that had just swallowed a mouse, its twitching tail barely poking out, not truly concealing the criminal act.
"Let's go," she hurried her friends, and soon they were at a fair distance from Lyn.
Could it be they were talking about Alexander? Lyn wondered. But Brad would know if that were the case, because his two best friends still talked and texted each other.
Something as big as Alexander getting treatment for an unnamed condition wouldn't go unmentioned in one of Brad's convos with the guy. Right?
What if Alexander was really ill? Lyn felt his chest caving in. Whatever was happening with his friend, he needed to find out. No way was he going to accept being kept in the dark. Not about something like this.
TBC