See In Him

28

  "It's too early for this," Kennith grumbled, readjusting on the couch. His arm was numb from being pressed between his chest and the leather couch. He could feel red indents in his cheek. It had been a good rest after waking in his bed and deciding to move to the living room couch where it would be cooler. This occurred at six in the morning, and Michael could only stare in shock at his son who was, by some miracle, walking before nine. It was short-lived, though, because he passed out on the couch soon after.

  Michael was the one who answered the door, of course. Kennith's face fell back into the leather, praying that the person left quickly.

  "....Lucia?" His father was confused, and for good reason. Kennith had obviously forgotten that the girl promised to come over around ten that morning.

  "Fuck me," Kennith whispered, hands rolling into fists. He pulled his blanket closer to his shoulders.

  "Morning, Mr. Arche. Kennith said I could come over... is he around?"

  Michael snorted. "Yeah. If he gets off the couch this year. Kennith, it's for you."

  "Fuck off," he snapped, not loud enough for anyone to hear. He didn't want to sit up just yet, so he listened to his father sigh, cross the room, and lean over the back of the couch.

  "Your friend is gonna leave if you don't get up. Come on. It's ten o'clock."

  "Yeah, whatever."

  "What, did you forget you invited her over or something? I think you got melatonin problems, son."

  Kennith heard Lucia close the door behind her. The girl then bounded over to the couch, wrapped a lock of his hair around her finger, and said, "Morning, sleepy head!" The boy immediately grabbed her wrist, freezing her movements, and he was going to push it away violently before he felt the feather-soft flesh of the inside of her wrist.

  His hand sat there on the side of his head, refusing to let go of her but still not allowing her to continue playing with his hair. Michael returned to his laptop and coffee in the kitchen. He was shaken by Kennith's tolerance for Lucia's touch.

  "Mm," Kennith told Lucia.

  "I thought you would at least be on your feet when I got here. Didn't expect you to be dressed or anything, but ya know," she replied.

  He opened his eyes, let go of her hand, and turned to look up at her. He panicked at first, realizing that her hair wasn't out and natural like usual. Today, he wasn't sure how it was styled, only that he desperately missed the fat blob that was Lucia's head and hair.

  "Cause I'm sad today." His father couldn't hear him, he knew. His voice was low. Upon hearing this, Lucia suddenly wove her fingers between his and rubbed her thumb over his knuckle. This act woke him from his stupor and he sat up and pulled his hand away, almost frantically. Although she meant it in an endearing, comforting way, Kennith couldn't accept her personal touch that early in the morning. Not when his friend was still in the hospital. Not when he was still blinking the sleepy haze from his eyes.

  "How come you're sad?" she asked. He shrugged. "My friend's in the hospital."

  "What? Do I know them?" She didn't think Kennith had many friends.

  "Jesse. The guy you met at the bookstore."

  "Oh, him! What happened? Is he okay?"

  Again, Kennith shrugged. He didn't know how to explain to her that Jesse hadn't been okay for a long time, and now he was in the hospital because he had reached the point of suicide. He would never tell her that without asking Jesse first, of course, but part of him just wanted to tell her everything.