20. CHAPTER 20
“Tanner Quinn, please report to the principal’s office,” the loudspeaker crackled. My math class erupted into a chorus of ooohs as our teacher waved me out. I slung my bag over my shoulder, racking my brain for what I might’ve done wrong.
As I neared the office, I spotted Gavin through the glass window, standing stiffly at the counter, eyes fixed on the far wall. He wore a lime-green Under Armour shirt and lime-green shorts, accenting the point that he was now in his highlighter phase—the same one I had gone through at thirteen.
Whatever was going on, he was twisting his body every way possible so he didn’t have to make eye contact with me.
“Hey, Ms. Cage." She had gone to school here with Mom and Dad, and she had a daughter in Gavin’s grade. Mom said that Ms. Cage had been homecoming queen their senior year, and she still had a hint of those looks.
“Hi, Tanner. Gavin says he forgot to give you your dentist’s excuse.”
Gavin avoided my gaze, still studying the wall of drug awareness posters like they held the secrets of the universe.
“Right, right. I came in early to hit, and I forgot to get the note from Mom.”
“Make sure the dentist signs it,” she said, handing me the slip. “Looks like you two should be back after lunch.”
“See you then, Ms. Cage,” I said. I grabbed Gavin’s shoulder, digging in my fingers a touch more deeply than needed, and ushered him out of the room. We walked down the entrance hallway in silence, the sun shining through the doors at the end. Our steps echoed in the emptiness of the lobby.
When we left the school, I stopped Gavin. “So, what dentist appointment do we have that Mom didn’t tell me about?”
“Don’t be mad,” Gavin said. “We aren’t going to the dentist.”
“Oh, wow, you’re such a great actor. You faked it?”
“You really didn’t know?”
“Just tell me why.”
“We’re going to the courthouse.”
“And why’s that?”
He looked away from me, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Well…we’re going to a hearing.”
“Gavin,” I said, pissed at his half answers.
“It’s for Easton’s dad.”
“Wh—Huh?” I stammered.
“The hearing to see whether his dad is going to jail or not is today, and I wanted to be there for Easton.”
“How do you even know about that?”
“Easton told me last week. He threw me BP at the field, and when we stopped, I asked him about his parents. I didn’t know all of that happened. It sucks bad. He said you’re the only one around here that knows.”
“Why didn’t you just ask Mom to take you?”
“Because he said he already told you. And you would have wanted to come if you knew about it.”
Fact. “Not true.”
“Don’t lie to me. You still care about him. It’s Easton.”
“He acted like an ass.”
“Yeah, he did. It’s still Easton.”
“Okay.”
“So, we’re going?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool. There are dress clothes for you in my bag.”
We changed in the car and drove over. Gavin yapped the whole way, not realizing I hadn't said a word for ten minutes.
My stomach churned, in equal parts dread and anger, as if something alive was rolling around inside me as we left the car.
I walked slower than usual into the courthouse, half-hoping someone would stop me.
Gavin led the way like he’d been here before.
On the second floor, he stopped and pointed. “Courtroom six.”
“You good?” I asked.
“Not really,” he shrugged as he opened the massive door.
I walked in by Gavin’s side but fell behind him when I saw Easton; just because I’d agreed to come didn’t mean it wasn’t awkward. Easton was going to know this was Gavin’s idea and I was fine in my role as chauffeur.
Easton sat next to whom I assumed was their lawyer, and his grandparents were on his opposite side.
His grandma had her walker sitting in front of her; his grandpa was leaning on his cane.
They were far too old to have this responsibility.
They were deep in conversation with the lawyer, talking about whatever lawyers talk about.
Easton saw us as we entered the aisle. He stood up and reached a hand out as Gavin approached, but Gavin shrugged it off and wrapped his arms around Easton in a hug. Easton whispered something in Gavin’s ear before breaking off.
As Easton sat back down, he glanced up at me. His eyes lingered for half a second, then he offered a quiet smile before looking away.
I hovered behind Gavin, hands in my pockets, every cell screaming I don’t belong here! The backs of my legs itched.
Easton and Gavin whispered to each other as we waited. There were other proceedings going on, and I sat and thought about what the hell I was doing here. In fact, what was my thirteen-year-old brother doing here? Why would Easton put something like this on someone so young?
I could have chosen to not bring him to the courthouse. But I needed to know someone was here for Easton. Gavin had been right when he’d said it didn’t matter what had happened between us. It was still Easton. No matter how upset I was feeling for myself, I wanted to be here.
The judge banged his gavel a couple of times, breaking me out of my trance only momentarily before I went right back into it. Fifteen minutes later, a guy that looked important walked over to Easton’s lawyer. The two suits walked away and had a quick discussion.
I looked over at Easton and met his eyes, trying to get some info. He didn’t look away with the usual flash of embarrassment and anger that I’d become used to. Instead, he gave a quick shoulder shrug and turned toward his grandparents.
The lawyer came back and took Easton and his grandparents away. Gavin’s eyes traveled with the group before he turned to face me.
“He asked about you last week.”
I stopped breathing as I waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, I took in a quick shot of air and said, “What did he say?”
“Just asked if you were doing okay. I told him you’d be doing better if he acted like your friend again.”
“Jesus, Gav. Don’t make me seem so desperate.”
“But it’s true. You miss him.”
“I never said that.”
“It’s obvious. Plus, I know what it’s like to miss Easton, and it’s not fun.”
I slid my butt across the pew-like seats, unable to find a comfortable position. I found my phone in my hand before I realized it. I scrolled through old texts, unsure what to say. Gavin was probably right. That didn’t mean I wanted him to be.
Not that it mattered. I’d come only because Gav had asked me to drive him, not for Easton. Not at all.
Movement behind me caught my attention. I glanced back and saw Easton walking alone. His face was unreadable, giving nothing away. I looked away before he could catch me staring. He took a seat next to Gavin and started talking loudly enough for me to hear.
“I told my grandparents that I’d get a ride back to school with you guys.”
“What’s going on?” Gavin asked.
“Let’s grab a pizza before we get to school,” Easton said, avoiding the question.
“Does that work for you, Tanner?” Gavin said.
No. No, it didn’t. Easton sucked. I would have nothing to do with him that I didn’t have to, and grabbing a pizza was much different than coming to the courthouse. Easton could go suck on a dick. Just not my dick. Well, maybe mine. But he could go to hell when we were finished.
“Sure, we can do that,” I said. Maybe next time I’d have some guts.
The three of us walked into Pizza Hut twenty minutes later.
Gavin and Easton had been talking about baseball on the car ride over, each of them excited for their upcoming seasons.
I was, too, but Easton being in my car for the first time this year was intimidating me.
Shouldn’t he have been with his family right now, anyway?
After we had ordered—and by ordered, I mean Gavin decided what we got while I checked Facebook on my phone and tried my best to avoid Easton’s eyes—Gavin asked what I’d been wondering since we’d left the courthouse. “What happened with your dad?”
Easton looked at me. I turned my palms up, indicating that he should answer, not sure why he was looking at me. He had brought Gav into this when he’d told him about his parents. Easton turned back to Gavin and answered.
“Dad decided to take a plea deal. Apparently, he told the DA that when he got to the courthouse today, he realized we were in the same building for the first time since Mom died. He said he knew I was going to testify and didn’t want to see me up there.”
“Sounds like he still cares about you,” Gavin said.
“I don’t give a fuck about him,” Easton said. His body language said differently, though. His hands tapped on the table in rhythm with the slow beat of the music playing in the restaurant. He shot me another look, and I held his gaze for a second before looking away.
“He taught you how to play baseball, Easton,” said Gavin. “You can hate him, but you can still care about what happens to him.”
Easton smiled at Gavin and nodded. I wondered if Gavin knew how close his words struck me at that moment. I stuck a slice of pizza in my mouth, focusing on the sizzle of pepperoni instead of Gavin’s words.
He hadn’t been talking to me—this was about Easton. Hadn’t I decided to be there for Easton? Right as I went to open my mouth, Easton stood up and sped off to the bathroom.
“It wouldn’t hurt to say something to him, dude.” Gavin had finished his slice and was staring me down like a challenge.
“Say what?”
“I don’t know. Talk about baseball. You’ve got games next week.”
“We talk at practice sometimes.”
“Doesn’t count. Maybe he wants to talk to you, too.”
“He doesn’t want to talk to me. This isn’t on me.”
Gavin stared at me, daring me to grow up.
I shook my head. “Shut up, Gav. He’s the one that ran.”
Easton walked back to the table in different clothes—the same clothes he’d been wearing the first time I had met him. A smile ran across my face as I looked him up and down like I used to do.
I realized I was staring at Easton and looked away. He had a grin on his face, possibly thinking about the same thing as me. Or maybe clocking that he still had this absurd ability to control my every move, even still. I had to look pathetic just staring and smiling. Oh, well.
I picked up my phone in the silence, fiddling with it for the hundredth time since I had walked into Ms. Cage’s office. Eventually, Gavin said, “Probably time I get you two back to school.”
We drove back, just listening to the radio. I stared at the cars around us, counting white ones against blue ones.
Gavin and I changed back into our school clothes in the school’s parking lot, and the three of us walked back into school to the air-conditioned office (the only room in the entire school with that luxury), and up to Ms. Cage’s desk.
“Easton, do you have the same dentist as the Quinns?” she asked, a bemused smirk on her face. Easton looked at us as Gavin failed to hold back a laugh.
Taking control of the situation, I said, “Sure does, Ms. Cage.”
“Not enough office chairs for Zach, too?” she asked.
“Zach doesn’t need a dentist with his smile,” Easton said.
The phone rang on her desk. Ms. Cage flicked her wrist at us, shooing us away. We walked out of the door, Gavin taking a left toward his next class before either of us could say bye, leaving Easton standing next to me.
I looked at him and nodded toward the senior high. We walked next to each other, the emptiness of the hallway vibrating around me. We were both supposed to be in journalism, so we went to the stairs leading to the second floor.
We fell into step with one another as we walked up the cement steps.
My fingers were locked around the wood railing, which was smooth against my calluses.
Easton pushed open the door at the top of the staircase, and I followed a half step behind.
He stopped right before we got to our classroom and turned to me.
“Thanks for coming, Tanner.” They were the first words he had spoken just to me today—they were the first words he had spoken to me since Christmas that hadn’t been forced out of him.
I stared at him and nodded. He wasn’t apologizing, but he wasn’t looking at me in anger, either. A battle waged inside of me—brain versus heart—over what I should say.
I chose nothing and walked into the classroom.
Easton walked in a minute later. After he dropped off his note, he found the seat next to me. He didn’t say a word for the rest of the class. But he stayed in that seat, next to mine, like maybe silence was the only apology he could manage.