Class ended. They all stood to go to the courtyard for break. Huck looked around, taken out of his dazed note-taking. Smiled back at Tom.
They all walked out of class and outside together, and Huck was alive again-- he was talking and smiling and walking with that big gait of his, and was the center of everyone again.
Tom looked up at the bright sky as they walked. And then his eyes drew back to the ground, back to Huck.
During break, the crowds came to talk to them. People surrounded Amy and Becky and themâthey surrounded Huck. Tom reckoned that's what he saw in the corner of his eyes when he was looking for Becky and Amy those days ago. Everyone had been surrounding Huck, and Tom had been too self-involved to notice it.
More and more people showed up, and the talking was one on the other and compounding, and growing, until it was loud all around him and Tom looked around and was surrounded by people. He moved a step or two back, and people stepped to the side and took his spot. It all brought a collateral feeling of stone to his chest. He just wanted to talk to Huck; the more Tom saw him, the more confused he was about who Huck had become. In class, Huck was like a shadow, just working. Out here, he was the center of everything, and Tom couldn't even get close.
The next day was the same.
It made a shadow grow in Tom's chest. Blooming into a heap of ash, and he could only watch. Tom stood by Becky, holding her hand. She grounded him enough to stay. But still, staying meant seeing Huck be so popular, amazing, mysterious, guarded, and Tom wouldn't get to find out what's underneath that smile and those gazes he was always giving to him, because Huck was busy reuniting with the rest of town. Tom felt that pit and that buzzing deepen in him.
The days passed, and it was the same. Tom was jealous.
But no matter how he looked at Huck in class and after school, and no matter how much that feeling in him had swelled, Tom couldn't bring himself to go to the woods. He just couldn't bring himself to go any night, because it would turn to him wanting to go every night, and Aunt Polly would just stay up late for him.and he had homework, and Huck might've started staying with the Widow Douglas, and... and so it was all just too much to worry about to stop his worries and talk.
So Tom just stared and stared. And smiled and felt a weightlessness when Huck finally looked at him, and felt a pressing pounding crushing thing in him when Huck would look away again. Tom just wanted to talk to him, but there was no room to.
"Do you guys want to go to the river after school?" Amy asked one day during break. Tom felt a swirl in himself, and looked at Becky and looked at Huck.
"Yeah?" Tom asked, meeting Becky's eyes. She nodded, and Tom took and squeezed her hand.
"Sure." Huck said in that smooth low familiar voice of his. Everyone else said yes, too.
The bell for break's end went off and so they went to Mr. Dobbins' class. And it was the same as every other day before; Tom talked quietly with Becky and Amy and Joe and Ben, until Mr. Dobbins called on him again, again. And then Tom would feel a redness multiply and flash through him as Huck and everyone looked at him, waiting for a wrong answer. Sometimes he was right, sometimes he wasn't. Half the time he got struck, and Tom would try to just look at the floor at his feet, seeing all the dirt and the scratches on it from years of this. He didn't like Becky and Huck and them having to see this, but this was the usual.
Then the embarrassment would be over and he would go back up to his seat, ignoring the stings of his skin, and try to do his work like Huck always did. But he never could.
Tom waited after each class, seeing for when Huck stood up and regained his self and his brightness. The feeling that made Tom remember how he used to be. And eventually, eventually, the day was over. Tom could feel himself blink slower, and walk with more of a strut, and his steps lighten. Tom and Amy and them walked together to the river, Huck staying behind a moment to talk to the teacher.
They all talked at the river, waiting for him. Their words were quiet, and mostly they just listened to the lap of the waves.
The energy was lightened when Huck got there. It was like just seeing Huck's face, his eyes, his smile, was enough. Like hearing his voice made everyone remember how vibrant they could be, and so were.
They all sat and talked and relaxed, letting the weight of the day fall off like mud settling down in the river.
And every time Huck would look at Tom, that dirt would get churned up in his stomach, and he couldn't tell why. But Tom did notice that Huck never stared at him back.
Tom talked, and they all talked, and underneath that was this. Noticing. That Huck rubbed his hands and leaned in before he talked with that interested and interesting voice, and before he smiled. And that hardly once in all that time of Tom glancing at Huck over and over, seeing the reactions on his friend's face, had Huck looked back. It made Tom feel a depth in his stomach, and a slight cold in his arms. Becky squeezed Tom's hand over and over, bringing him back.
Tom had a quiet sigh. Why did he seem more interested in Huck than Huck was in him?
Tom was brought back again. Becky's hands were warm and soft, and he glanced down at her, smiling. Closing his eyes a moment, he turned towards the river. Maybe he could talk to Huck, soon. But right now it shouldn't matter.
They talked more. Tom could relax. He could smile and squeeze Becky's hand back and watch calmly as the sun started setting, and silver flakes spread on the surface of the river.
The day ended. They all went home.
Tom had enjoyed his time with Becky. He had felt himself lighten when Becky smiled at him and when she talked and when she laughed. He had forgotten about Huck and his habits and the one-sidedness of it all.
But then he got into bed. And the warmth of the sheets reminded him of the warmth Tom had in his stomach whenever Huck looked at him. And the feeling of Tom's hand against the bed felt like the coarseness of Huck's hands. He couldn't get away from it.
Tom sat up, thinking. He needed to solve things with his friend. He rethought the whole day now that he had time. Why had Huck never looked at him? Never really talked to him today? Maybe he's not interested in Tom at all. Maybe he's avoiding Tom, somehow.
He breathed in the old air of the house. Breathed it out. Tried to forget about everything and think about Becky instead. He should be thinking about Becky.
Recent memories trailed after the darkness and the ink and the softness of having his eyes closed in this deep night, and he could hardly sleep. He kept thinking he should be in the woods right now, looking for Huck. But still, he couldn't go-- Aunt Polly would stay up for him, and...
Tom sighed. Opened his eyes. He saw sparks in the dark air. Saw swirls in his eyes. The faintness of this sleep was worse than just staying up all night.
He gently shifted out of the covers and turned his body, moving his legs over the edge. Stepped down onto the cold floor of his room. He just had to see. Had to know.
Tom felt the ground against his tired dragging feet. He felt his way against the fragile walls of their house. Avoided the creak of those stairs once again. And with his beating heart, he could hardly hear Sid downstairs. Tom got to the bottom of the staircase and froze. Saw Sid in the kitchen, moving as quietly as Tom had. Making a sandwich.
Tom stayed frozen for a minute longer, staring, before he stepped and stepped, his feet padding across the wooden floor towards the front door. In the darkness of it, he could wait for Sid to be finished--
Sid turned quickly. Stared through the dark house, and Tom just hoped Sid hadn't seen him. His heart was the only noise in his ears, as if it was wind, just continuous. And Tom felt nauseous.
Sid looked back to what he was doing. Tom could hear the soft rubbings of a knife against bread. Tom took another step or two. Just enough to almost make it. And he could feel a shake in his legs behind the movements, as if he was about to give out. Tom continued until there were two more steps until the front door.
"So what are you doing?" Sid asked in a whisper. Tom was reaching out his hand for the doorknob. But he heard Sid's voice and just had to close his eyes a moment. Had to hold in another breath. "Tom." Another whispered breath. Tom had to sigh, had to turn around and face that brother of his. Tom felt paralyzed. "You know I have to tell Aunt Polly." Sid said, and so Tom glanced back, a dread filling him like water.
"Why?" Tom asked. Sid blinked. Tom saw the tiredness in Sid's eyes, and then Sid blinked again and it was gone.
"Because she worries about you." Sid said. "Just go back to bed." He took a bite of his sandwich. Tom shook his head.
"I have to do something. I'll..." Tom sighed and grabbed the cold door handle. He didn't want to let on that he was struggling. "I'll be back before dawn. She wouldn't even have to know." Tom said. Sid shook his head.
"Fine. If you make it to school before me, I won't tell her." Sid said. Tom felt a wave come over him, clearing away the grey embers that had started burning him down.
"Fine. I will." Tom said. "Thanks." Tom said. Sid shook his head in response.
"...She really does, though." Sid said in a whisper. Tom watched as he took his sandwich and walked quietly up the stairs, avoiding the creaks just the same as Tom.
Tom sighed. He knew that. Sid was right, and he shouldn't be sneaking out at night, but... He opened the door. It couldn't be helped-- he needed to see Huck tonight.