Hearts, Scars & Horseshoes

Chapter 61 - Toby

I dropped my board to the pavement as I stepped off my front porch. My forward movement propelling me down the empty street. It was hot out, my T-shirt sticking to me in a matter of seconds. I made the short trip to Lars' house, bounding up the stairs as I left my board on the porch. I kicked my shoes off, pushing my way through the door.

"Hi Toby!" Angie called from somewhere in the house. "Lars is out back mowing!"

"Thanks!" I yelled back, grabbing my shoes before heading for the back door.

I slipped my feet back into my Vans, stepping onto the weathered boards of the deck. Lars was pushing the mower across the lawn, ear buds in his ears. His T-shirt was laying on the deck boards next to the weed whipper. I grabbed it, jumping off the side of the deck to the fresh cut grass below. I gave the cord a yank, the weed whipper whining as it came to life and set to work trimming the edges.

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A bead of sweat pooled up on the outside of the cold can of Mountain Dew that sat in front of me. Lars and I were on the back deck in the lawn chairs, the both of us sweating like pigs from doing the lawn. My shirt was soaked through, I had thought about ditching it a handful of times but as stupid as it sounded I still wasn't about showing off my scar. So I'd left it on and now it clung to me like glue.

"Thanks for helping."

"No problem." I mumbled, taking a drink.

"How'd dinner with your parents and Faith go?"

I rolled my head to the side, Lars looking down at the can of pop in his hands. I knew exactly where the conversation was headed. I didn't want to talk about it either because I already knew exactly what Lars was going to say. Nevertheless I answered.

"Good." I told. "They loved her."

I wasn't surprised. Faith was probably the type of girl every parent dreams their son brings home. Intelligent, kind, honest, beautiful, ya know, perfect.

"They don't know, do they?" He asked.

His eyes met mine, the turmoil that lingered in them any time the topic of parents was brought up. I had never asked for details but I knew his dad bailed before he was born. In seventh grade he wrote him a letter and asked his mom to send it. She either never did or the guy never bothered to write back. I'm sure he had a thousand questions and for as long as I'd known Lars every time we started talking about families or parents or the alike, I could basically see his mind fill with them.

I shook my head, opting for another drink.

"And you still haven't told her." He didn't ask that time.  "The longer you wait the worse it's gonna be."

He'd already told me plenty of times. And I knew he was right. Silence stretched between us as my mind ran through all the ways telling her could go. It felt like there was endless possibilities, the majority of those with her hating me in the end.

"I like her." I confessed. "A lot."

"You're an idiot."

I laughed through my nose, no humor to be found. "I just wanted to get her know. But now I just..." I blew out a breath, aware that I was sounding like I was already whipped, at least it was just Lars. "I don't want her to leave."

"You do realize that's a huge possibility when, not if, she finds out."

Lars was always right. It was annoying. But I also knew better than to argue his very valid point. I downed the rest of my pop, my shirt still soggy with sweat.

"Let's go do something." I announced, standing from the lawn chair.

Lars looked up at me, his blond hair a little longer than normal. "Like what?"

"I don't care, anything. Let's see what the rest of the guys are up to." I started fishing my phone from my pocket about to bring up the group text.

"Lets not." Lars commented, standing also.

"Why not?"

He shook his head, his back to me as he started for the house. "If I see Mark I'm gonna punch him in the mouth."

"Yeah what's going on with you guys?" I asked, if he was going to crack the door I was gonna shove it all the way open.

"He's an asshole."

"That's not new though."

I slide the glass door shut behind me, the cold air in the house giving me an instant chill.

"Did you know he got a 34 on his ACT's? That's two points away from getting everything fucking right."

"Holy shit." I didn't even try to hide the awestruck wonder from my voice.

"Yeah, holy shit. And guess what he's doing?" Lars asked, annoyance running through him. He didn't wait for me to answer. "Nothing not a damn thing. He could go anywhere. And he's doing nothing."

"So you're pissed at him because he's not going to school?" I asked. "I'm not either, are you pissed at me?"

Lars stopped his trek through the house, dropping the empty pop cans on the counter.

"I'm pissed because he acts like a fucking moron all the time. He doesn't take anything serious. He bitches all the time about how he hates his parents and now he has the perfect opportunity to get away from them, stop the cycle and he's not doing anything. He's a hypocrite."  Lars was on the brink of spewing steam. "I offered to help him, go with him to some colleges and shit. You know what he said? Classic fucking Mark. 'I'm not stupid enough to go to fucking college'. What does that even mean? College is supposed to make you smarter."

I didn't exactly know what to say. Lars already knew if someone didn't want to do something there was nothing you could do to change it. I didn't need to tell him that and honestly I was still trying to process the fact that Mark was a fucking genius.

"Besides you're gonna go to college." Lars added, significantly calmer than he was moments ago. "She's waking you up."

I wasn't sure how he seemed so confident and I had no idea what he meant. I wasn't asleep. I didn't know what I wanted to be or study or where I'd even want to go. I actually kind of liked my current life. Skateboarding, working at the cafe, hanging with my friends, kissing Faith. I wanted it to just stay. Just like it was. Maybe not forever but at least for a little a longer.

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Yikes guys. I suck. I'm lacking almost all motivation to write. The only thing keeping me going is that I don't want to do to this story what I did to Surviving Cancer. I refuse to ever momentarily (super long momentarily) abandon a story again. Stick with me while I suck please.