The Kings of Summer

one

"I need a shirt," fifteen-year-old Joe Toy states. He looks down at the bright yellow shirt adorned with rainbows he was wearing and grimaces. The stuck up football players at his school never ceased to surprise him with attacks. This time, it just so happened to be stealing his shirt right off of his back. No one said anything to him; just a few small snickers here and there, until Charlotte Young offered to give him a shirt.

"It was my sister's old shirt, so it might be a little small," she said, yet she somehow forgot it looked like he was in seventh grade when he put it on. She assured him that it didn't look that bad, but he thought otherwise.

"That's awesome!" Joe's best friend, Patrick Keenan, laughed. "That is...that is great. Actually, I need a picture." Joe watched as the ginger searched in his pockets for his phone. When his search was unsuccessful, he turned back to the brunette and added, "Shit. Can I get my phone?"

Joe revels in the fact that his best friend thinks he can get away with this, but he was obviously smarter than the ginger. "Hey! Mrs. Keenan?" he calls out, and he watches as Patrick's face falls.

"Shut up!"

"Patrick, why are you running around? You're supposed to be off of that foot!" Joe looks down at the boot Patrick's foot was in and stifles a laugh.

Joe walks inside the house, and the two make their way downstairs to play videogames. "Darling, would you like a cold washcloth?" Mrs. Keenan asks.

"What? No. No washcloth," Patrick replies, his eyebrows furrowing in complete confusion. The shorter, brunette male had to agree with him. His mother was very strange.

"How about you, Joseph?"

Just to spite his friend, he replies, "Actually, yeah, I would. I would love a washcloth." Mrs. Keenan smiles and rushes off to their small kitchen to get him one.

"No, Mom, sit. What the hell?" Patrick calls out after his mother, but she waves him away and continues walking. "What the hell is happening?" he whispers before he travels downstairs with Joe trailing close behind him.

Once they got down there, the game was set up within seconds and they were already on their second battle round. Patrick chooses his character for this round, and he rolls over a wolf-like creature. Joe watches as he sighs and rolls his eyes. "My mom reminds me of Blanka," he admits, motioning towards the character. Blanka begins to roar and make strange noises, most of which were combinations of multiple animals. "That's the sounds I hear whenever she speaks. Just the gibberish of an undisciplined animal." Patrick sighs. "It's never going to end. Even when I'm an adult, she'll find me, question me."

"You're being a little dramatic. Don't you think?" Joe laughs and selects a character.

"Joe, they're giving me hives."

"There's no way they can give you hives." The tall redhead drops his game controller to the ground, making an abrupt loud noise. Within one motion, he lifts his shirt up to his neck and Joe sees the red marks all over his stomach. His parents actually gave him hives.

"Holy shit," Joe mutters before Mr. Keenan arrived downstairs.

"Hey, kiddo!" Patrick's father announces. In the background, the noise of the second round of battling drones on. The two boys hear a sudden noise start up, almost as if someone was tapping on something, and they look to Mr. Keenan. Sure enough, he was tapping along the wall, checking for something that both boys cared none for.

"What, Dad?" Patrick asks, annoyance dripping from his voice.

"There should be a stud here," his father mumbles before turning around and leaving the two teenagers alone.