Coffee? Part 3

by Margaret Iuni

This is part of an on-going series. To read the last part of this story, click here.

The door slammed as Sears and I walked into the house in mostly comfortable silence. The rest of the school day had been pretty uneventful, and the car ride home had been significantly calmer than our drive that morning. Minnie had left for knitting club after school, so I didn’t even have to make an excuse about why she couldn’t come over. The next day, though, would be another story. Sears kicked off his sneakers, which were worn in and torn in several places, and ran his hand through his hair. His backpack still hung on one shoulder and he headed to the staircase. His hand rested on the lacquered wooden banister, as though he was going to go upstairs, but after a beat he pulled it away in one swift movement. I had already stepped out of my combat boots and was searching through my bag for my phone.

“Macy? About Spanish,” Sears began, voice saturated with the distance of a stranger, “Is there any way we could get started on that today?” His hand unconsciously bounced on the baluster, much like this morning when he had asked to start over. Clearly it was a nervous habit. Which made me smile a little, because, after caffeination, I was definitely nothing to be nervous about. Well, usually.

“Maybe? Depends on if you’re planning on dropping the polite nonsense. If we’re going to be friends, we’re going to be friends without you feeling like you have to pretend.” I strolled over to where he was perched on the first step and grabbed his hand from midair. “Just relax,” I laughed, but in all honesty, his warm hand in mine was making me a little unrelaxed. I dropped it before I could dwell on it.

“Okay,” Sears grinned his goofiest grin, and jumped down from the bottom step. “You’re helping me then.” I shot him a mocking glare.

“Never.”

“Well then, I guess I’m royally screwed.” Sears chin lifted ever so slightly revealing a scar just above his Adam’s apple I had not noticed previously. When his head was in its resting position, the scar was hidden under the shadow of his chin, but with light shed on the area, the scar was impossible to miss. It was ugly and long, but I was unable to examine it for very long since Sears dropped his chin again. I pretended not to see it, desperately holding on to the kidding version of Sears, not yet willing to move into serious conversations. Scars like that did not happen accidently and I was not sure I was ready to ask such a personal question as what it was from. I shrugged it off and raised my eyebrows.

“Hold your horses. Homework first, my friend. Homework first,” I swung open the kitchen door and to my horror it swung directly into an unsuspecting Uncle Target’s nose. He backed away from the source of impact with an anguished cry.

“For God’s sake,” he shouted, “What the hell is wrong with you?” His hands were holding his face, but I could see the blood beginning to drip down his cheek. I didn’t really think his accusation was completely fair, but I was not about to tell him that. He sat down quickly. “I see stars.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said, hurriedly moving to the countertop and grabbing paper towels. He pressed the wad of paper to his nose and winced. “Should I call a doctor? Is it broken?” I was beginning to feel panicky, since blood is definitely not my thing.

“Not broken,” Sears said, lifting his father’s face to examine the damage. Target sneered.

“And how would you know?” Target seethed.

“I took a First Aid course last year,” Sears shrugged it off.

“You’re not even certified.” Target moaned. His voice was distorted and it was slightly difficult to keep a straight face.

“No, sir, but I am fairly certain it isn’t broken.” Sears let go of his father’s head and moved towards the fridge. He grabbed a pack of frozen peas from the freezer and threw them at me, stunning me out of my guilty staring party.

“I really am sorry, sir. I wasn’t aware you were behind the door.” I hoped with all my might he would believe me, since this was not a way to get off Target’s bad side. Following in Sears’ footsteps, I figured calling him “sir” would be a nice touch.

“He’s had worse,” Sears replied darkly. He seemed annoyed, but not at me. Target stood up and gave a small nod in agreement with his son for the first time.

“You learn to expect gunshots. You don’t learn to expect kitchen doors,” Target muttered under his breath. He shook his head, then became slightly dizzy by this poor decision and had to sit for a few more minutes. Once his dizziness passed, Target stood one again and announced he was fine. He took the peas with him, though, as he left to go do whatever special agents do with a not-broken-nose on a babysitting job.

Sears gave me a side look to assess how I was doing. I had my hands on my head, as though in surrender, and upon making eye contact with Sears, I threw them up in the air.

“I give up,” I groaned, “He’s going to hate me forever now.”

“Forever is a long time,” Sears laughed. His eyes were sparkling and he looked over his shoulder to make sure his father was still gone before mouthing, “He deserved it anyway.” I almost laughed out loud, but had enough sense to know this would end badly since Target was only in the other room. “He doesn’t hate you, Macy,” Sears continued.

“Sure seemed like it this morning,” I mumbled. Even though it was only 4:30, the sun was already gone and I felt a wave of sleepiness break on the shore of my consciousness. I shook my head, and approached the coffee machine, ready for my most faithful friend to help make everything better.

“Do you, like, have an addiction?” Sears asked bewildered. This was only my third cup of coffee for the day.

“I’m kidding of course, but seriously, how are you able to drink this much caffeine?” I looked down at my feet, pulling my big toe further back into my sock as it tried to escape through the threadbare front. A hole was forming, which was a shame, since these were my favorite socks. I debated on whether or not Sears should get a serious answer. I figured since I had already ruined the light atmosphere with the whole nose thing, there was nothing to lose.

“When your dreams wake you up all night long, it’s hard to fall back to sleep. Or fall asleep at all. You worry constantly that they’re happening, or that they will happen, even though you can feel the difference between regular dreams and, er, not,” I paused for a second to take a sip of my favorite brew. “You’re plagued by nightmares. Sometimes, you dream of the deaths of your protectors months after they’re gone. Other times, you dream about terrible things happening to the people you love. They’re the dreamy dreams, but they’re still awful. So, you’re tired all day from lack of sleep. And wired all night from lack of desire to sleep. Caffeine helps. Keeps you awake when you need to be and helps you crash when you need to sleep.” I scratched my ankle with the toe of my other foot, and chose to rest it there. The tile floor was cold, and the thinning socks were not helping.

Sears tilted his head slightly to the right as he looked into my eyes. His brows had furrowed ever so slightly and his mouth was a straight line. He looked sad for me.

“Look, it’s not a big deal,” I shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to it… mostly…” I trailed off. Just the other night I’d had a particularly disturbing and terrifying dream of finding Minnie’s body in the trunk of my car, but I decided not to mention that. I didn’t even have a car, but it still made me wake up screaming. Sears nodded solemnly.

“I understand about the nightmares,” he nearly whispered. His hand unconsciously traced the scar hidden by his chin. His eyes were glazed over, as though remembering something from long ago. Sears opened his mouth, like he was going to say something, but then seemed to think better of it and snapped it shut again. He cleared his throat and threw up a quick smile as he turned towards the kitchen table.

Another time, then, I said to myself. When he’s ready, he’ll tell you.

“Let’s get that homework started then,” Sears said as he sat down dropping his head into his hands. I took another sip of my coffee and nodded, taking the seat directly across from him. He took a deep breath as he shifted so that his chin was resting on his hands. Smile plastered on his face again, Sears almost managed to pass as normal. But then again, so did I. We both knew better.