When Tommy Met Jerry (BoyXBoy)

4. the peculiarities of friendly neighbours🏘

The SecretBusterService status update: eighteen hours ago

Dear students of Califur High,
Jen Hilton has secretly been seeing Jared McKenna. Jen and Jared. Jen. And. Jared. Yeah, let that sink in. I would say it's an astronomically bad pairing, but that still feels like an understatement. Like, what do they even have in common with each other? A knack at throwing lame and boring parties? 
Until next time Lions,
Bond 007.

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After an excruciating session with Jeremy, where I spent a good chunk of our time convincing him to take that damn test, and an exhausting shift with Cathy, where I graded the said test and groaned so often it made Cathy offer me laxatives, I was ready to hit my bed and turn into a rock.

It was dark by the time I reached home, like it always was, but I could smell the barbecue only my mom could whip up, which I usually couldn't.

Light was coming from the backyard, along with laughter, and my shoulders sagged further. 

I don't know if anyone else likes it, but my idea of winding down after a long, hard day did not involve a friendly barbecue dinner with the neighbours.

I walked into the house first, to drop off my new bag (it had replaced the one with a ripped strap from that day) and washed my face. My body simply had no fuel left to run, so now I just had to make sure that I managed to not seem like I was high (which for some reason seemed the case every time I was too tired and slightly sleep deprived), and get out and back in as fast as I could.

It felt like I had no energy to even eat something; which was further proof that I was turning into one of the characters from the Walking Dead. If I couldn't muster the will to feast on my mom's barbecue, it was time to end the day.

"Thomas, hey!" Mr. Walker exclaimed as soon as he saw me enter the kitchen. He signalled for me to come join them on the table, outside, even though they were almost done eating and there was barely any food left on the spread.

Mr. Walker was our neighbour. He was also Stef's father.

Stefan Walker had moved in next door just a year ago. He was in my class, but had he not been a dandy dandelion flitting on the sidewalk (did I just use those words together in a sentence? See. High) when he walked to my house and introduced himself with the biggest basket of peaches I had ever seen, I would have never talked to him. 

He was my opposite in every way. He had never picked up a basketball in his life (his interests lay in some different balls, he claimed. I had never brought it up again), he would faint at the sight of blood (he said there was a reason no blood was ever supposed to be outside on purpose. I tried to bring that up every time I saw him) and he spoke a gazillion languages (I spoke English, and the phrase 'I don't speak Spanish' in French- how, one may wonder? Two words- Timothy O'Sullivan.)

"Come along, son," Dylan called out, seated between my mom and Daisy. He had left the hospital earlier than I did. 

I stalked over, noticing for the first time, that Sienna was also present, and had been hidden from my view behind Stef. Both of them were stuffing their mouths like squirrels loose on a bag of nuts, but they managed to send individual nods in my direction. 

I couldn't help but smile. I was exhausted beyond my wits, but this view, of all the people I cared about, sitting in one place and eating together, always tugged at my heart.

Things could change anytime, I knew nothing was truly constant, but these people- they managed to give me a moment of peace when I did not even know I was feeling restless.