I̶n̶f̶a̶t̶u̶a̶t̶i̶o̶n

Chapter 4--Evan

My knuckles were raw but my muscles were bulging. I punched the bag a couple more times as I heard the front door open and close and looked at the time. 7:46 p.m. Dad had worked nights since before mom was incarcerated and if he didn't start leaving earlier, he'd be late to work.

            Having thought of my mom, one thought led to another and I was punching the bag again.

            "Shit," I mumbled, looking down at my hands which had started to bleed. The sting was settling in, but it felt good. I messed with the rubber band on my wrist and absentmindedly flicked it against my skin. A light swell began to form and I stopped, picking up my 30-pound weights. I should be lifting more, but I didn't feel like it tonight.

            I had only lifted them a few times, feeling pleased when I saw my veins pop through my skin when my phone chimed. Setting the weights on the floor, I walked over to my bed-- which wasn't that far since my room was rather small-- where my phone lay charging. I had one new text message. Looking at the contact, I frowned. It was Chanse. What does she want? I thought. I unlocked my phone and looked at the message.

            Hey. I was just texting to say that I hope you're okay. -C

            Her concern, for a reason unknown to me, made something boil inside me and I felt a wave of irritation wash over. But then I felt something else creep inside me. It was that of minor gratitude. I typed a reply.

            E: Things are getting better, thanks.

            C: No problem, glad to hear it.

            Tossing my phone aside, I made my way back to where I had left my weights. The more I lifted, the deeper I my mind drifter. I began thinking about my mom again; about that night. I could still hear the roaring of the flames. I could smell the smoke, burning in my nostrils and lungs, making it hard to breathe. I could see my mom being carried out of the smoldering rubble by two cops, arms held behind her back. I had expected to see her crying or in shock, but she wasn't. She was smiling.

            I wasn't paying attention and my grip relaxed, releasing the weight onto my foot. I bit my lip to keep from crying out and limped over to my bed. Falling onto the stiff mattress, I could hear the frame squeak under my weight. The bed was old and wasn't even bought new, so I didn't pay much attention to it.

            I unplugged my phone from the charger and found Chanse's contact. Hesitating, I thought about what I was doing. Did I really want to talk to her? She could be irritating and most of the time she kind of stressed me out. But I didn't want to be alone with my thoughts and I knew none of my friends would understand. They were full of bull shit and pretended like they knew crap about stuff and mostly just made jokes about whatever I told them.

            I thought about last night with Chanse and clicked the 'call' icon before I could decide otherwise. She picked up on the third ring.

            "Hello?" Her voice was relaxed. Maybe I did make the right decision, I thought.

            "Hey."

            "Is everything okay, Evan?" she asked. There was concern in her voice and I could hear the relaxation start to fade away.

            "Yeah," I replied, "I was just wondering if we could talk. Just talk." I felt like one of those insects in the science lab; pinned for everyone to see. I felt like this a lot around her and I hated it.

            "Of course," her reply was genuine, "I'm always here."

            Or... at least I thought I hated it.