Dead Boys

3

Tobias

Dad is awake and waiting by the truck when I wake up that Sunday, his long, greying blond curls, slicked back, and frame clad in a blue button-up and an ill-fitting pair of slacks. I hurry to dress similarly, the woolen fabric causing me to itch but I ignore it as I force on a pair of tight church shoes.

When I come out, Dad grunts and hefts himself into the driver's seat, I quickly run around the pealing red front of the truck and into the passenger's seat. By my feet, beer bottles clink together. The scent of must and the Texas-shaped fragrance hanging from the mirror mix and stick to me like another layer of skin.

I run my hands through my own blond curls, wincing when I catch knots. Dad's fist clenches around the steering wheel as he drives us out of our carport. His knuckles are dry and cracked. I remove my hands from my head and settle them in my lap. I look at the curves of my palms, the softness there. The skin around my thumb that was broken just a few days ago is pink and new again. I press my fingernails into the heel of my palm, leaving white crescent moons in the flesh there.

Dad takes a loose cigarette out of the glovebox and lights it, taking a deep drag off of it. His exhale is the only sound between us. He must realize it at the same time I do, and flips on the radio. Rustic, warm notes of an acoustic guitar fill the air and I let out a breath, sinking into my seat.

I count three songs before we park in the driveway in front of the church crookedly. I wait for Dad to finish his cigarette before I push the car door open, the gravel crunching underneath my too-tight shoes as I stand.

I tip my head up, the church is the tallest building in town, other the hospital. It's a baptist church, of course, with stained glass windows and a long spike that turns into a cross at the very tip of it.

"Tobias!" Katie Roberts waved at me from her brother's, Matthew Roberts, side. They were the pastor's twin children and they had been in Sunday school with me since we were toddlers. They were like matches, with a bright red mop of hair on the top of each of their heads and long, pale bodies.

Sparing a glance at Dad, I hesitate but he's paying me no attention, his low brow hiding his eyes as he trudges ahead of me, like a man to the pryer, to greet Pastor Roberts. I stay behind, falling in step with Katie and Matthew, trodding slightly to keep up with their long, freckled legs.

"Worship starts in a hour." Katie said, grasping my arm with soft, plush hands. I can smell her vanilla lotion and my stomach flips uncomfortably. "Then we'll have brunch. Matthew made biscuits, you should try them."

Matthew shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets when I look to him. His Sunday wear looks better than mine. His blazer fits snuggly around his lengthy forearms. I look down. His shoes fit.

Katie lets out a noise. "Look, it's that new guy from school!" I jump, looking back up with a jerk.

Billy is there, looking even more out of place than I feel, with his long hair combed back and a brown and orange sweater rather than his usual tye dye. He stands off to the side, engrossed in his phone until a little girl, no older than three waddles over to him. A smile breaks out over his face and he scoops her up in his arms, resting her on his hip and smoothing back her wild black pigtails.

Katie hums. "I guess he's nicer than he looks."

"He is." I say before I can catch myself. I can feel their eyes on me. "He volunteers at the library." I explain simply, choosing to not mention our actual first meeting.

Matthew looks at Billy again, frowning, and Katie notices another person she recognizes and drags the two of us away to say hi.

When worship starts, I'm already sitting in-between the twins at the very front pew while Dad rushes forward to catch a seat in the back. Pastor Roberts makes idle conversation about the Bible at first before transitioning to prayer. Katie takes my hand, I look at her sparkly, clear nail polish. Matthew knocks my shoulder, holding out his hand. His boney fingers are so pale they're pink and when I take his hand, it's cool to the touch. I shiver.