Moments

Ghosts

Staring down at the phone in his hand, Even keeps replaying the other morning in his mind.

He'd been sitting with Isak and the boys in the yard, stretching out their brand new, pre-school ritual for as long as they could, and it had been a study in the mundane. A typical morning on a typical day and Even had loved every second. Isak pressed to his side, relaxed and smiling. It was perfect.

But the thing about perfect is that it never lasts.

At first, Even had thought Mikael was a figment of his imagination. Why would he be in the Nissen yard? It made no sense. But Mikael had made ripples in the gathering pools of people. A shift of a body here to accommodate him, a nod of recognition from someone else. Sana's knowing eyes following his approach. He was definitely a real boy and not some celluloid nightmare.

For a split-second, Even had panicked. The last time he'd seen Mikael, he'd been screaming at him. Pelting Even with the most hurtful things he could have possibly said, words strung together explicitly designed to cause maximum injury. And injure they had.

But the Mikael that had walked into Even's Norman Rockwell painting the other morning seemed different somehow. Lighter. It's this thought that occupies Even's mind as he waits for Isak at "their" table after school this afternoon.

He's tempted to call Mikael right now. Ask him why he was at Nissen. Ask him how he is, if he's sorry, if he forgives him.

Then he spots Sana.

When Even catches her eye, he waves her over, only a little surprised when she joins him right away. It's like she's been expecting him.

SANA: Even.

EVEN: Sana.

She smirks, one eyebrow arched.

SANA: Did you need something?

EVEN: [suddenly unsure] The other morning, there was a guy from Bakka here.

SANA: [tilting her head] Mikael?

EVEN: [heart stuttering] Yeah.

SANA: [narrowing her eyes] What about him?

EVEN: [studies her for a beat] You know, don't you.

Sana straightens, her expression suddenly serious. She nods once.

EVEN: [lowers his voice to almost a whisper] Why didn't you ever say anything?

SANA: [frowning] Wow. You...you really don't remember, do you?

EVEN: Remember what?

Sana takes a seat at the table and gestures for Even to take the space opposite, which he does.

A stone drops into the pit of his stomach. She's no doubt heard a detailed account of his epic meltdown. Fuck.

Defeated, Even lowers his eyes to the table between them. The wood is solid, despite what must be many years of abuse. There are scratches everywhere, little dings and nicks from regular use. There are also etchings, carvings, on the surface. Some endearing – Ina loves Mattias - and the like, and others that are laughably obscene. Some are just damage for the sake of damage, deep gouges that serve no purpose other than to destroy.

Even briefly wonders if those had been done in anger or boredom. Or perhaps anger at being bored, stuck in school, forced to learn and do homework and coexist with other insufferably self-obsessed teenagers.

His thoughts are getting away from him, so Even chances a look at Sana.

She's waiting patiently, or maybe just formulating a way to say yes, I know all about your crazy ass without hurting his feelings.