chapter twelve - licorice

chapter twelve — licorice

MUM MET ME ON THE PORCH. She had a bandana in her hair, holding back her short dark locks as she leaned forward to hug me. She smelled like paint and I returned the hug briefly, turning my head away from Lukas' grinning face as he backed out of the driveway with a wave, cheeks warm. We watched his car leave and the sky went overcast.

"Did you bring the laundry in, Mum?"

Mum looked away from the street, eyes reflecting the clouds and my own. She smiled blankly, tilting her head to the side.

"The laundry? It's gonna rain, Mum. We should take the clothes off the clothesline," I repeated myself, unable to be angry with the tranquil expression plastered on my Mum's face. Realization dawned on her face, shy smile sprouting up as she ruffled my hair.

"I nearly forgot! Thank you, my heart" Mum pressed a quick kiss to my temple before scurrying around the porch to the backyard.

I let myself in, lazily scraping my shoes on the doormat. Mum liked to put our clothes out on the clothesline to dry during the summer. I helped her out with it whenever I could. It was one of our little rituals: listening to the cicadas and the Beatles as we draped the damp clothes over the drooping rope. Sometimes we'd find spiders on the line, tiny little webs formed overnight and slick with dew. I usually batted them away with my Mum's gardening spade, not wanting to mess with the eight-legged fuckers. Mum, on the other hand, would coax the disgusting things into her hand and set them by her gardenias.

I liked gardenias.

My nose crinkled as the smell of cigarette smoke broke through my thoughts. Mum smoked on occasion, but never in the house with the fear that I would become addicted to second-hand smoke. Dad had no such qualms, a trail of ash leading me to him.

I'll clean that up before Mum sees.

"There's my big lad!" The smell of nicotine made my eyes water, face too suddenly coming in contact with the stiff, scratchy material of Dad's sweater. I held still for a second, stomach churning, before breathing a sigh of choked relief as he stopped hugging me.

"How are you, Kieran?" He lounged back into the chair he was sitting in before, a cigarette snub crushed and hidden beside the side table where he always hid them. Dad wasn't a scary looking man by any means. I'd already surpassed him in height, and my Mum stooped whenever she was around to not make him feel bad. Marco affectionately called him Midget Man behind his back, and I pretended not to hear. He wasn't a certifiable midget, he stood around five foot three inches, but Marco and I were the people least concerned with facts.

He leaned back, awkwardly propping his short legs up on the couch, tracking dry dirt onto Lukas' spot. I frowned, quickly moving to fill the space so he'd move his shoes. He complied, chuckling when I dusted the upholstery before sitting down. When I was little I used to tuck myself into a ball in the same spot whenever Dad came to visit, his loud voice reminding me of the annoying kids at school.

Those silly fears were dead and gone now. My Dad, though admittedly prone to assholic tendencies, wasn't nearly as bad as my kid-self had made him out to be.

"'M good Dad," I answered honestly, eyes level with his own icy gaze. Mum's eyes were the color of paintings of the ocean, the old ones with a film of dust on top. With a faint sense of chill, they were mostly calm and deep, usually crinkled at the edges with a small smile. Lukas liked to compliment Mum on her eyes. Both DJ and Roger agreed that they were arguably perfect. I wasn't lucky enough to have her eyes.

My eyes mimicked my Dad's: cold and sharp. It was as if the same painting of the ocean had been taken and put in the sun for too long, the blues fading to an ugly, slated ice-color. There was nothing kind about our eyes, yet people still called them lovely.

There was nothing lovely about us.

"Good, good," Dad hummed thoughtfully, the conversation already growing stale as his eyes flit from mine. I let my own gaze drop, watching the semi-hidden butt of his cigarette smolder quietly by the side table. The rug was spotted with burn wounds from Dad's visits over the past ten years or so, little bits of charred synthetic fibers that felt like coal under my fingers. Before the others hit junior year, we used to spend every afternoon sitting on the rug and playing old board games my Mum had like Paírc, Frustration, and, our favorite, Sean Kelly Cycling. Nobody had time to hang out anymore, all of them drowning in a mess of extracurriculars, tests, and classes.

"How are your friends doing? Any basketball scholarships headed their way?" Dad pulled another cigarette out of his slacks' pocket, leg twitching. I smiled to myself, noting how I hadn't moved a muscle since I'd sat down.

I'm getting better.

"We've all gotten offers," I decided to be as vague as possible, my feet finally betraying me and starting to tap a joint melody with my Dad's jumping leg.

"All?" Dad paused mid-lighting his cigarette, reanimating with a new sense of purpose. He shoved his lighter back into his pocket, alongside his pack of cigarettes. He leaned forward, hand coming out of nowhere to clap me and the knee as he smiled, puff of smoke pouring out of his mouth like dragon fire.

"You've got offers, Kieran? But you're only a sophomore," Dad's eyes lit up in a way I hadn't seen since I'd won my first championship in third grade. His grip on my knee was made of iron, and I jerked away, not caring if I hurt his feelings. He continued grinning at me, unfazed.

"Yeah," I mumbled "a few"

My throat went dry as Dad stood up, blocking me into the couch by sitting in the spot that would've been mine normally. I usually sat smushed between DJ and Lukas, taking up more room than the both of them by spreading my limbs out far as I could. Dad had gotten what he wanted.

"Any mentions of scholarships? Grants? College is expensive, Kieran, and," Dad paused, waiting for me to shift my head to look at him.

"Well, I'm no poor man, but some money would be nice. They giving you money, son?" He jostled my arm, excitement radiating from him in unnaturally bright waves like an LED light bulb: painful. Lukas was never had that: ugly excitement. His excitement was no less bright, but warmer, broader. Like the sun.

"Nothing like that just yet, Dad" I shifted away from him, clearing my throat as he blew a stream of smoke into the space between us. I hate smoke.

"Oh," His disappointment hung in the air like minute spider webs, making me itch.

"Well," He hastily recomposed himself, slapping me on the back harder than was friendly.

"I'm still proud of you, good job lad," He patted my back before standing up, the couch lifting to fill the crevice he'd left. It wasn't terribly deep; he'd maintained his health decently over the past few years. The only difference between his present self and the one from him and my Mum's wedding photo was the patch of hair beginning at the crown of his head, and the rasp in his lungs whenever he talked.

"I've got some candy on me, wait" Dad felt the insides of his pockets, turning out the contents onto the table: a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, car keys, a thin wallet.

"Oh, here we go" Dad held up the licorice like he'd found the Holy Grail itself, throwing them into my lap like a dog and they were my treats. His declaration of his pride in me would've been enough, but I knew my Dad. The licorice was all he had to give me solid evidence of his pride. He didn't keep cash on him— he was too paranoid for that— and he didn't really concern himself with getting to know what I liked and didn't like. I didn't blame him— I was the same.

My stepbrother, Daniel, liked licorice, so to him, all kids liked licorice.

But I'm not a kid, and I fucking hate licorice.

I pocketed them with a smile, tracing the cellophane wrapping with the tips of my fingers before tucking it in between the seat cushions of the couch where the rest of them would be. Lukas always thought I hid them for him, eagerly eating the disgusting candy even though he didn't like it either. He knew I didn't like it though, so he liked to take care of it for me. I didn't like it when he took care of me, but it kept the pile of licorice small, the same way the rug by the side table wasn't reduced to an ashtray over time.

Dad surprised me by taking his seat in the chair he'd been sitting in before. He'd had his phone out, frown lines settling as he pocketed it.

"Turns out I have some extra time to spend with you," Dad grinned, smile copied from the ads for veneers I'd seen on the billboards. I wasn't even sure how Dad's original smile looked, but it was alright since I'd gotten Mum's smile. I knew I wasn't big on smiling, but from the way Mum's smile could make me feel, I figured it was a damned good smile. Maybe I should use it more.

Would that make it cheap?

Dad pocketed his phone and I settled back into the couch. Daniel's practice was extended.

I stood up.

"I'm going to get some water," I headed to the door, hesitating before looking back, "You want anything, Dad?" I added as an afterthought.

Dad waved his hand in the air, eyes glued back onto his phone. His eyes flickered up to me, flashing his strange smile, teeth looking blue in the light of his screen.

"Don't busy yourself with that, boy," Boy, I winced, "Come join me"

He patted the seat next to him, and I frowned, returning to my seat.

"Dad, I'm thirsty"

He made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat, not bothering to look up from his screen again. His apple watch pinged with a notification and I tilted my head, catching part of the message.

Daniel: Another delay, Coach sa...

Dad's wrist jerked suddenly and my eyes looked away from his watch, ears burning when he smiled at me. Caught, you. Dad laughed, saying nothing as he slid his phone back into his pocket. I wondered if the material was beginning to wear from how many times he'd used it as a reversible slip-'n-slide.

"Thirsty, you said?"

"Yea-"

"Caoimhe!"

I flinched, his voice going from loud to booming. I could feel the sound waves rolling out of his mouth, puffs of smoke still emitting though his cigarette now resembled a pencil eraser more than a cancer stick.

Mum appeared in the doorway, her footsteps hurried and heavy. Her bandana had slipped, pushing some of her hair into her eyes, the keen blue hidden by stray strands. She was holding an overflowing laundry basket to her hip, bottom of her pants slightly damp.

"Hello dears," She smiled cheerily, "Sorry, I went outside to get the laundry. Kieran had to remind me since I almost forgot. How silly of m—"

"—Could you get Kieran and I some water please?"  Dad cut her off with a perfect smile, looking up from his phone to meet her masked eyes. Mum's smile faded on the edges and I hurriedly stood up.

"I can get it, Dad. Don't worry, Mu-"

"-Nonsense, dearie. You and your father only have so much time together." Mum smiled kindly at me, casting her gaze over to my father who was already back on his phone.

"I'll get it for you right away"

Δ     Δ    Δ    Δ    Δ    Δ    Δ

"How was the meeting with Midget Man?"

"Fuck off, Marco. My Dad's not a fucking midget" I scowled, accidentally letting smile slip out, before grabbing the bag of popcorn from Marco with ease. He growled, looking up from his position sprawled out on the couch in DJ's basement. His feet were in DJ's lap, different socks on both of his feet. DJ didn't seem to notice, nodding at me as he finished his conversation/debate with Roger.

Marco pawed at the air, muttering under his breath as I took a handful of the kernels and passed the bag back to him. He clutched it to his chest, eyes red-rimmed and spaced out.

"Munchies? Again?"

I didn't even bother asking Marco, looking towards DJ for an explanation. DJ sighed, running a hand down his face.

"He was like this when I found him"

"Found him?" Roger and I echoed each other.

"Yeah, he was just strolling down the middle of my street in the afternoon today, high as a kite," DJ patted Marco's shins, brows furrowed as we all silently studied the way he popped fistfuls of popcorn into his mouth.

"Yeah, I was" Marco laughed, sounding decidedly un-sober.

My lips quirked into a smirk as I swatted at Marco's popcorn bag, gaining a sick sadistic pleasure from the way he reacted. High-Marco sucked at determining how fast something was going, so we played a game of cat-and-mouse with our hands as he slapped the air my hand left behind on a harsh delay. DJ scowled at me, swiping at me with his long arms. I jumped back, boredly kicking at the trash on the floor.

"He still seems a bit out of it," Roger frowned, "He have a stash in your house?"

DJ chuckled, a weary laugh peeling from him as he rubbed at his eyes.

"Yeah, probably"

Roger sighed, patting DJ's shoulder when the doorbell rang from upstairs.

"Lukas coming today?" I tried asking casually as DJ tried prying Marco's legs out of his lap. His arms cradled Marco's calves, trying to gently pivot his legs onto the cushion underneath DJ. Marco wasn't having it though, legs stubbornly plopping right back into DJ's lap.

"Yeah, it's probably him at the door" DJ muttered, looking up in relief as Roger grabbed one of Marco's lead legs.

"I'll get it" I made my way to the stairs, ignoring the smile that crept onto Roger's face. DJ looked like he wanted to smile, and was struggling between calling me out on my eagerness and clocking Marco in the head with his fist. I hoped for the latter.

The doorbell rang for a second time as I reached the landing. DJ's parents were both out at a wine-tasting festival or some shit, so the house was empty except for us. My socks slid across the hardwood floor, the feeling decidedly foreign to me since I usually kept my shoes on at home. I crashed into the door after skating on the wood a little too energetically, yanking the handle open before I could give myself a concussion.

"Hey!" Lukas grinned, stepping over the raise of the threshold.

I nodded at him, more focused on not falling on my ass than returning the greeting.

That's why his hug took me by surprise.

"Lukas, get off" I gently slapped at his back, my feet almost leaving the ground as he straightened up to give me a bear hug. He smelled like bread and soap, probably from the shower he'd taken after we came back from the shore.

Lukas finally detached himself from me, a huge grin spread across his face.

"The fuck was that for?" I crossed my arms, impressed when I didn't slip as I moved back to give Lukas more space.

He bent over, taking his shoes off slowly.

"Felt like it" He tried answering nonchalantly, but Lukas had never been good at lying to me.

"Bullshit"

He rolled his eyes, socks imperceptibly different. They were both white, but the stripe running across his toes was a different color on both. Both blue, but one more worn, more gray, than the other.

"Fine, fine," Lukas raised his hands in mock surrender, following me to the basement.

"You always seem down after your Dad visits, so I thought a hug would cheer you up, okay?"

I froze mid-step, restarting when Lukas' knees knocked into my back as we made our way down the stairs.

"Oh"

"That okay?"

I could've turned around and met his gaze, but I decided against it. The sound of video games and casual screaming met my ears and I continued walking.

"Yeah," I cleared my throat, "Yeah, that's fine."

"Thanks"

I could hear Lukas' smile.

"Yeah, 'course"

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2843 words

Sorry for the random update! I've decided to stray away from my Sunday-only update schedule for now. I'm planning on updating once a week still, but I'm letting myself relax on the days so the quality of the chapters improve :)

This chapter kinda highlighted Kieran and his Dad's relationship, so (hopefully) you all got a feel for it.

What do you think?

Thank you for reading, I hope you all have a lovely week!

(I'm planning on starting the book that will follow this one soon, so if you want to help me decide which character I should follow pop by my profile/ comment/ or PM me your thoughts)

Possible spinoff characters and genres of book

1. Caoimhe (Kieran's Mum)

2. Marco and DJ

3. Roger

4. Michael

I may add more to the possibilities as this book develops, but I wanted to see what you guys thought as of right now :)