A Not So Good Deed

Simon Matthews sat alone at lunch for the third time in a row.

It was just about the single worst week of his life and everyone at school knew it. To the left and to the right he could see nothing but pitiful glances from onlookers. It was suffocating, like there was a plastic bag covering his head.

When his brother, Liam, had been at school Simon never sat alone. No, Liam didn't sit with him often, unless he asked the boy too, but others did. Liam was the star quarterback, and Simon had a level of popularity through association, even if he was just the boy's nerdy kid-brother.

Even after Liam graduated a few residual friends remained to keep Simon company so he wasn't so out of place in the sea of judgment. But then everything changed.

When Liam finished high school their father got up and left. One day he simply walked from the room and never returned, not even bothering to make an excuse of grabbing milk from the store. Simon then found out that his life was a lie and his parents were only staying together until the kids were old enough they didn't need them anymore. Their mother thought they had a few more years. Their father didn't.

Simon wondered if maybe their father left because Liam hadn't gone D1 like they'd expected. Mr. Matthews was a huge football fan, and Simon always felt the man resented him for not engaging in the activity. Once Liam was done with football, their father was done with him. As much as the loss hurt, it was only Liam who ever truly had a father to lose.

That summer things only got worse. Mrs. Matthews had overestimated her ability to handle things. As the divorce proceedings worsened, so did her mental health. She was trying so hard to be good for the kids that she was losing sight of the fact that she needed time to grieve.

She started drinking then. Not just occasionally, not over dinner, but all the time. Constantly, and anything she could manage to get her hands on. Alcoholism consumed her soul like the devil and ruined what was left of her intimate relationships.

She pushed her sons away. She pushed her friends away. She pushed her life away.

The neighbors called the police one day when she was seen screaming at Liam on the front lawn. He'd stayed out later than she'd expected and she'd been drinking. She stupidly went out to meet him and ended up throwing her bottle at him. That was the last straw.

She was charged with neglect. Liam was eighteen, but Simon was a minor. So Liam adopted Simon as a care dependent and moved in with their snowbird grandparents to keep the bills low.

And all that led to Simon. Simon sitting alone in a room bustling with people. Hearing and seeing every whisper and nudge.

He wasn't given the liberty to gracefully accept the cards life dealt him in peace, rather the whole school had become aware of their situation.

Neglect cases were sealed, but Liam had trusted the wrong people for counsel. A glimmer truth here. A rumor there. It was all the same. The story had morphed so much Simon couldn't keep track of it.

"Hey." A voice shook Simon from his thoughts and he looked up to see the face of a boy he didn't recognize. Simon wiped his cheek half hazardously and forced a smile so he wouldn't look like he was hurting.

"Hi."

"Mind if I sit?" The boy asked.

Simon didn't, so he shrugged and the boy sat down. He was a larger boy, well built with broad shoulders. Simon had never needed to fear the football boys because Liam was their king, but eyeing the boy's bulk he wondered if he ought to be afraid now that he was so terribly alone.

"You're Matthews brother?"

Simon nodded. Once he might have protested that he was just as much Matthews as his brother and didn't need the association, but the realization that he would have done anything to have his brother to share the weight with him snuffed that notion.

They sat in an awful silence for a moment. Simon had never liked silence. He wasn't a party boy like Liam, but he still longed for something to break the din.

"You knew my brother?" Simon asked, deciding he was as capable as any to end the awkwardness.

"Of course, everyone does." The boy smiled. "I'm Asher, by the way. Asher Ericsson."

Simon sounded in agreement.

"Your brother didn't talk about me? I'm the quarterback now, I replaced him. I was his backup, you know. He was like my mentor."

Simon looked up from his lunch and attempted an encouraging smile. Liam had most certainly not mentioned this "Asher" but Simon knew enough about his brother's charisma to understand everyone thought they were friends.

"Well... all this to say... I uh..." the boy nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "I lost my dad a while back, and it was really rough. Obviously I can't understand this with like all the people knowing or having it also be your mom.... I'm making things worse," He chuckled. "What I want really want to say is that I know it sucks, and I'm really sorry. The worst part for me was all the random people who told me they were sorry, but hell I'm in their shoes now, and I'm sorry."

Simon chuckled bitterly.

"You said your name was Asher?" Simon asked, earning an eager nod from the boy. His blonde hair flipped into his face and he roughly pushed it back. "I think I do remember my brother mentioning you."

Asher beamed with pride.

...

Asher Ericsson was in the locker room sitting next to Garrett, a football friend of his. He was pulling off his pants to change when he heard snickering from across the room.

There two boys pointed at Liam Matthews brother and whispered, but not well, "no wonder his dad left; his second son's an embarrassment, I mean look at him!"

"Asher?" Garrett called next to him, beckoning they boy back to reality. "Dude, you totally like spaced out there."

"Oh sorry." Asher mumbled. The boys had gotten up and left, but Simon remained alone. Asher didn't think Simon could hear the boys whisper, but he knew from experience that grief gave you a sixth sense about those kids of things. "My head's a little fuzzy. Let's just head out."

On the field the boys who'd whispered ran together, and Asher ran up to them after a minute. He hadn't wanted to make a scene in front of Liam's brother, but he wanted the boys to stop. And Asher had a way of getting what he wanted.

"Hey!" He called firmly, his voice bold and authoritative. "Were you two talking about Matthews in there?"

"What's it to ya?" One boy shrugged, looking to his friend. They were football teammates, but smaller than Asher who was impressive in size.

"You know that's Liam's brother, right?"

"So?" The other boy asked incredulously. "He's not here anymore, anyway."

"Don't talk about him again." Asher approached the boy, making his face an intimidating glare.

"Why not?"

"Because Liam's a good dude. He might not be here, but I still am, and I'm not gonna let this team shit talk the championship winner's brother."

One of the boys rolled his eyes, so Asher stepped forward and pushed him. The boy looked like he wanted to fight back, but they'd caught the gym teacher's attention, who glared in annoyance.

"What're you gonna do?"

"If I see you talking about him, to him, or even so much as turn your filthy eyes in his direction, I'll personally beat the shit out of you."

....

Simon spent the rest of the day as he'd spent the beginning: moping in self pity. It wasn't the most therapeutic method, but it seemed to serve him as well as any.

It was better though, because something had changed. For whatever reason, after lunch that day, everything stopped. The whispers, the side eyed glances, everything. Simon was left alone, left to grieve in peace.

It was miraculous. Suddenly Simon no longer needed to feel so smothered, because he was just ignored. He could fall back into the shadows alone and thrive off the freedom he found there.

He wasn't fixed, but he was better.

(N//A) Hello.

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