chapter thirteen â major balls
MY ROOM WAS SPOTLESS. The smell of bleach filtered through my windows, leaving behind slick floors and blindingly white pillowcases. It smelt good, my head heavy from the fumes of all the cleaning products I'd just shoved back into the closet. I'd borrowed one of Mum's colorful bandanas. The longer bits of hair, on the top of my head, were pushed back so it looked like I was balding; a fake receding hairline mimicking my father's. I was wearing one of Mum's old shirts, a baggy Stones tee that would fit a small sumo. She said it had been a given to her when she was younger, and I assumed it was one of her school friends since my father was tone deaf and had no idea what good music was.
The sun was just starting to come up, and I slung the rag I'd been using for cleaning over my shoulder so I could pull open the blinds. My room faced East and the blue walls turned a weird orangey color around sunrise and sunset. I was always awake for both.
I pushed my window open a crack, the sweet, damp smell of summer taking the place of the scent of cleaning products. The smell of bleach left the room, leaving the scent of hot, wet tarmac in its place. It reminded me of summer camp in elementary school. It reminded me of basketball.
My fingers flexed into my palm as I fought back a yawn. I wasn't sure when exactly I'd woken up, but the sun wasn't up when I'd started my cleaning. I hadn't woken up intending to clean my entire room, nobody fucking does that. It'd really only started when I noticed a candy wrapper on the floor, which lead to some stray candy, which lead to some melted, funky shit attached to the floors. Which led to me mopping and dusting my entire room like some kind of crazed grandmother.
"Kieran?"
"Hmm," I hummed, a noncommittal noise, as I realized I had yet to make my bed. Maybe I'll wash my sheets. Lukas would be proud of how productive I was being. I smiled to myself, yanking the sheets off my bed.
"Kieran, honey, how long have you been awake?"
Mum's arms reached out from behind me, trapping me in a light hug. She kissed the top of my head quickly before trying to meet my eyes. She had her thick-rimmed glasses on, still in her pajamas and raggedy bunny slippers.
"Mum, I'm cleaning" I brushed her off gently, grabbing the pillowcases and tossing them into the sheet. I tied it all together in a fat bundle and Mum grabbed it from me, staggering a little under the size.
"I'll wash these for you, my heart," She managed to look at me over the top of the bundle, "Why don't you try to sleep a little more?"
I shook my head, trying to take the pile back from her. She carefully dodged me, surprisingly not toppling over like I'd thought she would. My adrenaline rush was starting to dissipate, and exhaustion hit me out of nowhere, my shoulders starting to droop as soreness settled in right between the blades of my back.
"Kieran, love, you need to sleep, okay?" She peered at me, concerned, and my skin prickled uncomfortably. I hated making my Mum worried. I didn't want her to worry about me. I was grown, I didn't need her to worry about me.
I could handle myself.
"Sleep, my heart" She commanded gently, sidling up next to me to press another quick kiss to my forehead, "Lukas and his family are coming over in the evening for dinner, so you can help me clean before they come." She smiled gently, and I returned the gesture with my own smile, reserved for her.
Nodding, relieved that I'd at least have the motivation to wake up after I hit the bed, I grabbed my spare sheets from the closet, shoving the pillows in their cases with satisfying ease. Mum shut the door softly, somehow still balancing the large bundle of sheets in her hands. It wasn't the first time I'd woken up to clean my room in a mass exodus of dust, but it had been a while since the last time. Nearly six months, actually.
I thought I was getting better, but I'm just going in circles.
I sat on my covers, toes grazing the now-shining hardwood. I'd forgotten to charge my phone yet again, the dull screen blinding in the early morning light. I unlocked it, thumbs automatically putting in the password before I could think. It was decidedly basicâ my birthdayâ and Roger loved giving me shit about it. DJ and Marco loved to give me shit about my lock screenâ a picture of all of us from Championships this past year. It was a rare shot of all of us grinning, all of us looking directly at the camera. Well, almost all of us.
Marco's gaze had actually been a little off the camera, much more interested in the girl taking the picture.
Maybe that's why Lukas is my best friend: he doesn't give me shit unnecessarily.
It wasn't completely true though. Lukas could tease me just as much as the rest of them, but there was never any animosity, just smiles. It was always just smiles with Lukas.
My finger hovered over his contact.
Lukass.
It's five in the morning, he won't be awake.
We'd been texting until late last night, his icon dull and offline now. I wasn't even sure what we'd been talking about. It had started with basketball, like all conversations I start do, but had somehow morphed into our plans for the future. Lukas wanted to go into Engineering like DJ, and I was sure they'd both do great. My friends were geniuses, except for Marco, but he was a genius in his own screwed up way.
I wanted to play basketball: make it to the NBA.
Basketball is, quite obviously, the hardest sport to make it professionally. I was just one good player out of thousands over the nation, and my chances were still lower than fucking Arrigo becoming an NFL player. Lower than fucking Michael going straight.
Lower than Lukas being gay.
I pushed the thought out of my head quickly, shoulder crunching in shock and discomfort.
Don't think about shit like that.
Dad liked to say thinking about it was just as bad as supporting it, spewing all kinds of bullshit about mental manipulation. I couldn't picture Michael manipulating anything, except maybe dirt. But Dad was right about one thing: thinking about shit too long could mess you up.
Lukas' icon lit up so suddenly I almost dropped my phone, ears turning red even though he hadn't even begun to type.
Lukass: Hey Keke :D
I swallowed, sleep forgotten as I laid back against my pillow, thumbs backtracking nearly everything I tried typing out.
Kieranus: Hey
Lukass: Why r u up so early?
Lukas responded fast, almost as if he'd been typing before I'd even seen his message.
Kieranus: Why are u up?
I didn't even realize I was smiling until my cheeks started to strain.
Lukass: You seemed off yesterday, and when u seem off you usually don't sleep. I wanted to check on u, everything okay?
I turned my phone off, plugging the charger in with lazy formality. It buzzed on the side table and I quietly muted it, dragging my covers over my head.
Don't think about it.
It was stiflingly warm under the sheets, the smell of bleach starting to seep through. I squinted my eyes shut, hands clenching the pillow under my head as I curled up into a tight ball.
Don't think about it.
Î Î Î Î Î Î Î
When I woke up, DJ and Marco were at the door. It was a little past noon, my stomach eating itself as I rushed through brushing my teeth and taking a shower. Mum's bandana had permanently pushed up some of my hair, and I angrily flattened it before answering the doorbell. I saw my reflection in the glass, angry blue eyes melting any remnant of sleep off my face. My lips were screwed into a familiar scowl, hair half-sticking up and one pant leg rolled.
"Only ring it once, you fucknut" I scowled, Marco brushing past me with a grin. DJ followed sheepishly, scraping his shoes on the mat. The morning mist had developed into a healthy drizzle, so now Marco was tracking mud everywhere. DJ caught him by the wrist, dragging him back to the mat as I popped into the kitchen.
"Mum, DJ and Marco are here"
Mum spun around a wide grin on her face. She had her mitts on and I nervously eyed the silhouette in the oven, unsure of whether it would start to grow arms. Our fire alarm needed to be fixed, so I wasn't sure I wanted to leave her alone.
"Oh, that's great, honey! They can try some of my lasagna. How did you sleep?"
My eyes flit between her and the oven, an uneasy smile spreading across my mouth.
"Yeah, good. I slept fine"
"Hey, Mama!" Marco cheered as he stepped into the kitchen, meeting Mum halfway with a hug of his own. She laughed merrily, patting his cheek with her mitt.
"Hi Marco, sweetheart" She looked over his shoulder, holding her arms out to hug the much shyer DJ, "Hello DJ, darling"
My Mum looked like a dwarf in comparison to DJ and he was careful not to squish her, though she hugged him firmly. He smiled politely, his eyes flitting to the oven and then my gaze as Mum looked up at him dotingly.
"Hi Ms. Mogan, you cooking something?" I detected the hint of fear in his voice, lips curling up when Marco snickered, going around Mum to lean against the island next to DJ. He was abnormally close and DJ glared at him when he tried leaning against his arm. I rolled my eyes.
Marco was, simply put, a strange motherfucker. I was learning to deal with his eccentricities.
"Call me Caoimhe, honestly boys," Mum smiled, oblivious to the larger problem at hand. DJ and I edged closer to the oven.
"Do you need help with anything? We can watch the lasagna," I offered, DJ hastily nodding in agreement.
Marco scowled, "Aw, but I wanna play FIFA"
I glared at him, DJ being much less subtle and pinching the skin above Marco's elbow. Marco winced, smile never dropping off his face. He looped his arm through DJ's elbow and beamed up at him, silly smirk remaining when DJ shook him off.
"Oh, that's okay boys, Keisha is coming over to keep me company so I'll put her to work. You all go and have fun!"
DJ and I breathed a sigh of relief, Marco obviously upset that the oven wouldn't blow up. Keisha King, aka Ms. Keisha, was one of Mum's old friends. She lived close by and loved to drop in just to tease me and keep Mum company since apparently I was a horrible child. I hadn't seen her in a while since she'd been pregnant and cranky, not wanting to travel the semi-long distance in her minivan by herself.
"Is she bringing her baby?" I asked nervously. I wasn't a fan of babies at all. All they did was shit and vomit. They weren't even cute. They looked like squishy potatoes.
"No, not today" Mum grinned and I exhaled, relieved.
"Aight, let's go. Can't wait to try the lasagna Mama!" Marco winked, dragging DJ to the basement. I followed them, shaking my head when I was suddenly stopped. I choked as a hand grabbed my collar, pulling me back from the top of the stairs.
"You're leaving before you hug your favorite auntie?"
Ms. Keisha pouted, all six-feet of her tense and sassy. I rolled my eyes, clearing my throat with a scowl. I forgot to lock the fucking door.
"You're not my favorite auntie"
She gasped, dramatically feigning hurt. Her long, bedazzled talons clutched at her heart as she brushed by me to hug my Mum.
"Caoimhe, this boy needs to learn some manners"
"Oh, Kieran is a very nice boy," Mum defended me weakly, not catching the joke.
I chuckled, giving in and hugging Ms. Keisha as she laughed. Her lips were painted a shade of blue today, making her teeth look unnaturally white as she beamed. She smelled like paper, coffee, and stress: the scent of new-Moms who'd just returned to work (according to Roger). Mum's tension evaporated as she realized the joke and she giggled, embarrassed.
"Make sure the lasagna doesn't burn, yeah?" I whispered in Ms. Keisha's ear. Her earrings were decidedly pretty: silver and stringy like a fake waterfall.
"Of course, who do you think I am?" Ms. Keisha shoved me back playfully and I smiled again, deciding to disappear into the basement. I shut the door behind me, already hearing their mixed laughter. Mum's laugh was light and sounded like a bell whereas Keisha's was lower, more forceful.
They were both contagious.
"Why are you morons here?" I collapsed onto the floor, rolling myself up in my fluffy blanket. Marco was tinkering with the television set and he eyed me curiously.
"Do you ask Lukas this many questions when he pops in unexpectedly?"
I heard DJ breath catch and relented, scowling when Marco's grin grew exponentially. He handed DJ the other controller, plopping down next to the gentle giant and propping his legs up into his lap. Fucking weirdo. I watched them play until familiar footsteps trod down the stairs.
"'Sup cunt," Marco nodded over my shoulder and I turned my head slowly.
Lukas met my gaze from across the room, brown eyes filled with worry as he took a seat on the couch behind me. I scowled, trying to twist myself so I could face him, but he put a hand on my shoulder, pinning me to my spot. He swung his legs on either side of me, hands lazily reaching for my shoulders.
"Want a massage?"
"No"
"Too bad"
Lukas' thumbs dug into the soft flesh above my shoulder blades, kneading and pulling at the muscle. I involuntarily hunched my shoulders, trying to wiggle out of Lukas' weird-ass massage-trap. He sighed heavily, the weight of it momentarily pinning me down as he resumed the circular motion of his thumbs against the upper part of my back.
"What the fâ"
"âYou looked tense" I looked up, craning my neck back to see Lukas smile sheepishly. He smelled nice, like Dad's expensive cologne. He'd tried dressing up for dinner today, I could tell. He was in a nice set of chinos, hair brushed down and a watch on his wrist.
I looked homeless in comparison: nacho-stained sweats and a too-big shirt on. It's probably his, fuck.
He looked less like my best friend and more like a celebrity-babysitter.
"I'm gonna change," I pushed away from Lukas, my shoulder protesting as the massage abruptly stopped.
"I'll come with" Lukas got up to follow me and I nodded, flipping off Marco as mimed sucking a dick. DJ grabbed his wrist, eyes still locked on the console.
Marco kitten licked the back of DJ's hand.
"Gross," I grimaced, shaking my head when Marco leaned back with a roguish grin. Lukas chuckled, shoving me further up the stairs. I snickered, shoving him back. We clambered up the stairs side-by-side, our shoulders brushing the narrow hall of the stairwell.
"Ass," I muttered, a short bark of laughter leaving me as Lukas pulled on the back of my shirt. I stumbled, his hand steadying me for a heartbeat before shoving me into the drywall. I reciprocated by grabbing his belt loop, not bothering to balance him and bounding forward.
"Wanker," Lukas tried his hand at a British accent, effectively making me cringe so hard I pulled a neck muscle.
We finally reached the top of the stairs and I won the race by an inch, hand grasping at the door handle. My fingers made the shape of an 'L' and I pressed it to my forehead, sticking my tongue out like a kid.
Lukas sighed, shaking his head with an amused smile.
"What?" I frowned.
"Wrong hand, Keke. Your 'L' is backward."
"Oh"
My ears felt hot and I quickly shoved past Lukas, heading up the stairs to my room. I could hear him laughing behind me and I rushed faster, socks sliding against the stairs. Lukas chuckled, and I hastily shoved through my door, insistent on not looking at him.
I'm so fucking stupid.
"Keke, I'm sorry," Lukas' giggles broke up his apology and I scoffed, whipping my top off angrily. My room still smelled like bleach, and I threw my dirty shirt at Lukas, hitting him square in the face with a satisfied smirk.
"I'm sorry," Lukas whined, half-laughing as he rifled through my closet. He tossed me a polo and I pulled it on, leaving it half-rolled up so I could put some deodorant on. I spun around, nose nearly colliding with Lukas' shoulder.
"The fucâ"
"What was up with you this morning, Keke?"
Lukas used his hands to steady me and I almost melted into his fingers, shoulders remembering how nice they'd felt on my knots and strain. I jerked myself away from him, brushing by almost violently. I quickly found the deodorant, rolling the shirt down and reaching for the waistband of my pants. I hesitated, looking over my shoulder.
Lukas was sitting on my bed, arms crossed expectantly. His biceps flexed in the position and I scowled, envy creeping into my features. I looked away, hands fumbling with the things I'd arranged on my table: some random action figures, a shit ton of basketball trophies, a random corsage a girl had given me at junior promâ shit like that.
"Here"
I looked over to Lukas just in time to catch a can of Axe being thrown at me. I mutely thanked him, uncapping it and using it lightly.
"You want khakis?"
I ignored Lukas' question, self-confidence sinking by the minute. I hated how he babied me. How he felt like he had to take care of me. I was a fucking burden on everyone, I knew that, but I was hoping the dynamic between Lukas and I would be different.
I was wrong.
Like I am with most things.
"Here" Lukas passed me my khakis and I pulled my sweatpants down, pulling my khakis on as he turned away to look at my trophies. He'd seen them a dozen times, but I guess the way I'd changed their organization had caught his eye. I smiled a bit, happy with how clean my room was.
Lukas turned back to me, his mouth opening to inevitably question me about my early morning activity. But he just wants to help.
Fuck him, I don't need his help.
I don't need anyone's help.
"I'm fine, Lukas," It sounded harsher than I'd meant to and I immediately looked up, looking for the telltale sign of hurt I'd become accustomed to seeing on people I loved. Eyes dimmed, head lowâ Dad had made me the master of using my words like a weapon, but I didn't know how to control them.
"I know you are"
Lukas' eyes shone brightly, a warm chocolate shade.
"I just wanted to tell you to fix your hair, it looks like shit," He hummed, hand passing through my messy locks in a half-assed attempt to plaster them down. I stood still, afraid to breathe in case I'd blow him away like a dandelion.
"Oh"
I stood there dumbly, letting Lukas run his hands through my hair like he was a professional or some shit he definitely wasn't. His fingers felt nice. They passed through the small knots in my hair gently, not tugging at them and ripping the strands out. He pulled back with a content sound and I looked up at him almost weirdly, trying to analyze the strangeness that was Lukas-fucking-Schmitt.
"Better?" My voice sounded quiet, the loud sounds of laughter coming from downstairs finally reaching my ears.
"Yeah," Lukas smiled, "Good"
"Listen, Lukas, I'm sorry I didn't respond this morning, I just...fuck"
I looked away, neck growing warm and uncomfortable. The apology sounded weird coming from my mouth, stale and unused almost.
"Hey, you're fine, Keke--"
"--No. I shouldn't have like, fuck, I don't know. I didn't treat you right. I'm sorry. My Dad just always fucks things up, he... "
Lukas' hands grabbed at my arms, thumbs pushing into my biceps gently. I let myself calm down, pulling out of his grasp slowly, nervous smile tearing my face in half.
"...He just, he fucks everything up, Lukas"
I pulled away from him completely, back pressed against the table like it would support me if I fell over. I wouldn't fall over though. I could handle it. I was just in my head. I got into my head too often for me to manage sometimes.
"I know, Keiran, I know." Lukas smiled, hand reaching out to slap my shoulder lightly.
"Wanna go eat away our problems?"
"What problems do you have? You're Lukas-fucking-Schmitt" I chuckled, hoping my smile would take the edge off the bitterness in my voice. Lukas just rolled his eyes, bumping his hand into mine.
"Unrequited love"
I paused midstep.
"Oh"
Lukas hummed, still making his way down the stairs. I rushed to catch up, pulling at my polo anxiously. It was riding up a little, tighter than I would've liked, but I'd manage. Lukas' shirt had a little lint on the back of it, and I casually picked it off and threw it over the railing, sending it to its doom.
"Nice girl?"
"You have no idea"
"That sucks balls man"
"Major balls"
We reached the landing and I jumped to reach it before Lukas, socks sliding precariously.
"Talk about it?" I bumped my shoulder with his.
Lukas smiled sadly and I felt my stomach twist into knots.
"Maybe later"
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3717 words
Woah, long chapter haha.
What do you think?
Next chapter should be fun for some development, and you'll get to see in Lukas' head again! Also, I've got my idea down for DJ and Marco's book following BWBB. Be warned, it won't be like Lukas' and Kieran's story. DJ and Marco have their own struggles :)
Have a beautiful week! <3
Book (not yet published) below:
Kissing Boys