The Bright Side

Chapter 4 - Part 1

TRISTAN

Sky and I are in my room and watch clips of pro skaters online. We're sitting on my bed, our backs against the wall and my laptop is supported by our legs. We both admire Rodney Mullen, that guy is insane. We watch video after video because he's a god and we just can't get enough.

"That sick bastard!" I cry out as we watch a series of flatland tricks.

"Yeah. His feet are hands!" Sky is just as amazed as I am.

And I'm kind off pissed off, too, because the booming music from Rory's room is starting to numb my brain.

"Enough!"

I hit the space bar and attempt to set the laptop aside to give Rory a piece of my mind as I hear our front door open. I'm shocked as the clock confirms that it's almost dinner time. Sky and I have spent four hours straight watching Rodney Mullen. Since Mum is most likely going to take care of the matter, there's no sense in getting up anymore, so I resume the clip.

"Hello!" Mum's voice sounds as if the 'o' was going down a slide, high at first with a long-drawn-out deeper level. "Anyone home?"

"I'm home!" I call out but don't move. I already hear her steps on the stairs and it takes just a few seconds before she pokes her head through the crack of the door.

"Oh. I didn't know you had a visitor."

"That's Sky, Mum."

"Hi, Sky", Mum waves at him and he waves back. "Are you staying for dinner?"

She hovers in the open door.

"Thanks, Mrs. Ashmore, but no. My mother is expecting me."

"Alright." She genuinely smiles at him before her expression becomes rather puzzled. When you're not used to Sky's detached face, it's quite uncomfortable. She focuses on me again and clears her throat to catch my attention. Rodney Mullen literally dances with his board.

"Half an hour until dinners ready, Tristan." She lets out an exasperated sigh. "Tristan!"

"Half an hour, got it, Mum." I have to peel my eyes off the screen. "Eh, one more thing? Tell the prat next door to turn the volume down?"

"Cut him some slack," she pleads.

"It's too loud!" Aside from the fact that the beat alone is pissing me off. I don't think it's asked too much of him to keep it to room level.

"He just got rejected by a girl he likes."

"So what?"

"You just went through a break-up, maybe you can think in his shoes."

"That's hardly the same." She isn't honestly comparing what Carrie did to a simple rejection.

"Talk to him. Comfort him. He's your little brother after all."

"Why me?" He might be my brother, but he's also a twat. I'm not overly fond of him.

"Because I have no idea what to do!" She looks at the wall that separates our rooms. "What is he even doing in there the whole day? Besides blasting his ear drums?"

"Probably knocking one off." The words just slip out and intense coughing from my left redirects her focus on Sky, who is covering his mouth with his fist, desperately trying to keep his features clean.

"Tristan!"

"Come on, Mum. What do you think he's doing in there? Writing poetry about it?"

"Please?" she asks me, her eyes wide and full of worry. I wonder if she freaked out over me breaking up with Carrie so much, too, but she probably already had enough to think about with me in the hospital.

"Ok. Later." I will most likely not.

"Thank you, pumpkin."

From the corner of my eye, I can see Sky's mouth pucker.

"No, Mum, thank you," I say politely, "for calling me that in public for crying out loud!" My voice breaks at the end of the sentence, something that hasn't happened to me in years.

"Your room is not public, pumpkin."

I take off my snapback and pretend to throw it at her but have to push the long curl that immediately jumps into my face behind my ear. She blows me a kiss and disappears behind the door. I dare to look at Sky, whose expression is so desperately innocent, that I have to laugh out loud.

"Alright, let me hear it."

"Hear what?" Sky purses his lips to not break into a grin.

"I'm sure you have something to say."

"Nope." He cracks his knuckles, first his right hand and then his left. "Continue another time?"

I nod in sync with the beat from next door and close the laptop. The volume next door goes up and I can imagine Rory sulking around in his room with his heart bleeding. Feeling like a useless piece of crap.

"Boy, girls suck," I say. "Don't they?"

Sky shrugs and slides to the edge of the bed to put on his Vans. And then it occurs to me, that I have no idea if he's in a relationship or maybe recovering from one, too.

"Speaking of which. What about you, mate? You got a girlfriend?"

He half turns around to me and smirks, well, Sky-style, so almost not at all.

"No." He pauses as he ties his shoelaces. "I'm not into girls." He says it as if he just admitted that his shoes are black. "No complaints from my side."

"I see. Boyfriend then?"

I'm glad my response comes so quickly because it makes me seem totally casual. I had no idea. I always imagined a fan club of girls blocking his way wherever he went. But, oh well. I can easily picture the boys standing in line for him, too.

"Not at the moment."

His voice doesn't reveal if that even bothers him but what bothers me is that I just can't read him most of the times. There's not even a hint on his face if coming out to me was difficult for him. If he can play it cool, I guess I can, too.

Sky gets up and pulls his hoodie over his head and rearranges his hair before he covers it with his beanie.

"So, I'll be off work around four tomorrow," I say. "East Coast?"

I almost forgot that the day I was allowed back has come and I figure, that if I'm able to work I might just as well give skating another go. It's been three weeks by now and my arm isn't hurting at all anymore.

"Alright. Four-ish it is, pumpkin."

He quickly bumps my shoulder with his fist and he is out the door before I can even think about punishment. I throw a book against the wood and there's gleeful laughter in the hallway.

Now that he's gone, though, I can finally admit to myself that his announcement makes me restless. It feels like the second a trick goes wrong, the moment before you loose control. Like thunder in the distance on a summer afternoon. The information continues to linger in my head and I'm not keen on sorting out why it makes me feel weird.

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