“Yeah,” Cole said.
“Now tell me you love me,” Brady smiled.
“I love y—”
“Mwach. In Cree.”
“Uhhh…”
“Come on, you got this,” Eva said.
Cole pictured his mom, tucking him in at night just before she left, and him grabbing his flashlight and reading in secret. He pictured her face and tried to remember her words as he closed his eyes. “Kisakihitan,” he whispered, then opened his eyes. He saw Eva and Brady looking at him, and somehow they seemed to know where he’d gone, where he had to go, to find the word. Eva reached forward and wiped a tear away from his cheek.
“Astum,” Brady made a move towards class. “Come on.”
Eva nudged him when they were halfway to class. “Can I ask you something that might sound weird, but I swear I don’t mean it that way. To sound weird, or be weird.”
“Now it’s already weird,” Cole said.
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Yes, you can ask me something that might sound weird.”
“Okay, so…” Eva tightened her ponytail, smoothing the hair back on top of her head “…you’re good at math, and I suck at math, right?”
“I haven’t seen your test scores,” Cole said dryly, but he acknowledged that, yes, he was rather good at math.
“Well, I do suck,” she said. “Trust me.”
“Alright, I trust you,” he said.
Eva was stalling, walking slower, giving herself more time to ask her weird question. Cole slowed to keep pace with her.
“What is it?” he asked. Talking to her, looking at Michael.
She smiled. “We have a quiz next week, yeah? I could use some tutoring help. Dad used to help me, but he can’t even text, still.”
“Tutoring, like, me and you alone? Like, me helping you, like, do you mean during school or…”
“School’s not the most conducive place to just be quiet and learn together,” Eva said. “I mean, you can’t tutor me during class, so…”
Cole didn’t answer. They switched places, and now Cole was stalling, hoping they’d get to class before he had to turn her down. He didn’t want to say no, but he wanted to stick to his guns, to keep making Michael happy. He just got his friend back. But he made the mistake of looking at her just as she rubbed her lips together, as though spreading lip balm. She looked down, away from him, the olive skin on her cheeks carrying a suggestion of pink. She was embarrassed to have asked and not get a response. All of it made Cole’s heart flutter.
Michael, he thought. Michael, Michael, Michael…
“Never mind,” she said. “I shouldn’t have asked. I’ll just—”
“Sure, I’ll help. What are friends for, right?” he’d said it all so quickly, like it was a race to get the words out.
“Ummm,” she said, running her fingers over her ear to fix a few displaced strands of hair. “Okay, great. Can you come by tonight?”
“Yes,” he said.
“In Cree, please.”
“Ehe.”
“Hey, Cole.” Just outside of the classroom, Michael spun around to face Cole. And Eva. Tutoring. Tonight. Alone. Cole stepped to the side, away from Eva.
“Yeah?” Cole looked at Eva quickly, who shook her head. He gave her a questioning look, his head slightly tilted, trying to say through this gesture that she and Brady had literally just said to be honest and now he wasn’t supposed to say anything about the tutoring? What did that mean?
“We’ll be in in a second,” Michael said to Brady and Eva, who raised their eyebrows at each other, but went inside the classroom, leaving Cole and Michael together.
“Excuse me, ladies.” Lucy walked between them on her way into class. She stopped just before entering the class, looked at them both, and said, “huh, I thought you two hated each other,” then went inside the room.
“What’s up?” Cole asked. Please do not tell me you heard Eva asking me over, Cole thought.
“Still play hockey?” Michael asked.
Thank God. “That’s debatable,” he said.
“How horrible would you be, scale of one to ten?”
“Minus five million-billion?” Cole said. “One is bad, right?”
“Seriously.”
Cole pictured himself trying to skate while getting choked out by Tristan. “I’d say a solid two, maybe three.”
“We can work with that,” Michael said.
“Maybe three and a half. Work with me how, and for what?”
“The game’s back on this weekend, not sure if you heard or not.”
Cole showed Michael his phone. “Not on the group text.”
“Right,” Michael said, “well, we need another player, since…”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I think it’d be really nice if you played.”
“Michael, I don’t know.” Cole wanted to keep building up good will with Michael, but at what cost? Making an ass of himself in front of the whole community? How would it actually feel to suck at a game that was super intense, to be an ankle-bender around really good hockey players?
“You’ll be fine,” Michael said. “And, you know, you could honour Ashley, right?”
“Okay, that’s not fair.”
“I’d appreciate it, okay?”
“Oh, way to double down,” Cole said. He wanted to say, “Mwach,” so badly. He ruffled his own hair and closed his eyes tight, like Michael would go away when he opened his eyes again. No luck. “Alright fine. Ehe. Whatever.”
“Thanks.” Michael extended his fist to Cole.
Cole looked at it. He hesitated, and then touched his fist to Michael’s.
“So, how are you doing, anyway?” Cole asked as he and Brady left school on their way to Brady’s place. “Now that we’re alone, and you don’t have to, like, put on a front or something.”
“I don’t have to put on a front for Eva, or Mike.”
“I just wanted to ask, and not just because you told me I wasn’t asking you about it,” Cole said. “Can I ask you?”
Brady managed a smile. “Yeah, you can ask me. I’m, you know, okay. There are times where I don’t think about him for a moment or two. I like those times, but…”
“But what?”
“I guess, when I remember him again, just sitting in class, or whenever, I feel guilty that I wasn’t thinking about him.”
Cole put his hand around Brady’s shoulder and gave him a man-hug. How could he tell Brady not to feel guilty, or give him advice about it, when he literally felt guilty all the time? So they walked in the quiet, the ominous calm that Cole at once loved and hated, and Cole kept his arm around Brady’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze every few steps.
But Cole stopped in his tracks when Brady’s house came into view, and Brady slipped away from Cole’s one-armed embrace. He walked a few steps before noticing Cole had held up. He stopped, too, and looked back at Cole.
“What are you doing?” Brady asked.
“What the hell…?” Cole said under his breath.
Out in front of Brady’s house, Cole’s auntie and grandmother were standing with their suitcases and Cole’s backpack and shopping bag from the store, too.
“That.” Cole pointed at his relatives.
Brady looked away from Cole, towards his house. “Oh, crap. What’s that about?”
“I don’t know, but I doubt it’s good.”
“What’s going on?” Cole asked when he and Brady had come to the same front steps Cole had been found on. He thought that his grandmother and auntie were standing right on top of that spot intentionally to make a point. But what point?
“We’re going home,” Auntie Joan said.
“No, I can’t go back to Winnipeg, you don’t understand. I—”
“Not Winnipeg,” Auntie Joan said. “If we’re staying here, then we’re going home. Your home here.”
“Mwach,” was all Cole could say. “Mwach.”
Somehow, this was worse.
/> 16
MY NORMAL
HOME.
Cole hadn’t been home since he ran there the morning after the school fire. He remembered it now. He’d been found in Blackwood Forest sometime in the night, his palms burned, his shoes gone, his clothes charred and torn. He’d been brought to his auntie’s place, but as soon as he could, he’d gone home. He’d burst in through the front door and rushed through the house, through each room, screaming “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” hoping she would be there, that the fire had been a nightmare. Then he ran outside, ran and ran, ran until he couldn’t run anymore.
He never set foot in the house again.
“I’m not going there.” Cole’s grandmother, Auntie Joan, and Brady, had been waiting patiently for him to say something. “I can’t go there. You know I can’t go there.”
“I think it’s important that you do,” Auntie Joan said. “Isn’t that what your psychiatrist had talked about once? What did she call it…exposure therapy?”
“She never mentioned going back into that house,” Cole said. “And also I wish I’d never briefed you about my sessions!”
“Cole, we’re just trying to help you get through this,” his auntie said.
“Well, I don’t think you should use my private sessions as ammunition!”
“Joan thinks you should be home, with us,” his grandmother said. “Nobody is using anything as ammunition.”
“Do you want me to…?” Brady motioned to the house, sounding like he really wanted to be sent inside.
“If you don’t mind, Brady—” Auntie Joan started.
“No, I’d like for you to stay.” Cole put his hand against Brady’s chest, keeping him right where he was. “Brady knows about my anxiety.”
“Seems kind of like a family thing, that’s all.” Brady sounded very uncomfortable, but Cole needed him here.
“You are family,” Cole said to him.
Brady relented. “Alright, cuz.” He forced a smile, but stayed put.
“Grandma,” Cole looked for another ally, “you can’t think this is a good idea. Please. Tell her.”
“It’s always been up to you,” his grandmother said, “but I do think Joan has a point.”
“Well, I’m not going,” Cole reiterated. “It’s bad enough that you guys wasted…I mean, holy shit, Auntie Joan, we hardly have enough money day to day and you just threw down $2,000 to get here? Does grandma have another envelope or two under her mattress?”
“I have savings, and I can replenish those savings,” Auntie Joan said.
“We are trying to support you,” his grandmother said.
“Brady and Eva have been supporting me,” Cole said. “I’ve been buying groceries and everything. Plus, plus, Brady’s kókom’s in the clinic, you know that, and I don’t want Brady to stay alone!”
“Friend,” Brady said, “don’t hate me, but I agree with them.”
“But…”
“Don’t flip things on their head. I’ve loved having you here, mostly,” he smirked, “but…I don’t know…don’t you think it’s kind of weird you’ve never even gone within a hundred yards of your old house?”
“No, it’s not weird because I literally set up an invisible boundary that I promised myself I wouldn’t cross,” Cole said matter-of-factly. “I know that I won’t be able to handle it, and then what good will I be?”
“If I can give you some advice you haven’t asked for, I think you should go,” Brady said.
“You can handle it,” his grandmother said.
“And we’ll be there with you,” Auntie Joan said.
“What, am I on A&E or something? Is this an…an intervention?”
Brady put his hand on Cole’s shoulder. “Cole, whether you want to believe it or not, you’re as strong as they come. And I don’t mean…the stuff I’ve seen. I mean, even just coming home and facing what you’ve faced, almost daily. You can do this, too.” Brady paused, then added, “Also, you’re not allowed on my couch anymore.”
Cole looked at Brady’s shoes, then at his own. He looked back up and smiled at his friend. A soft, quiet smile. Then, he patted Brady’s shoulder in return. “I hate you.”
Brady laughed. “Kisakihitan.”
Cole picked up his backpack, and handed it to his auntie. “Fine, you win. You can sit there and watch me collapse into nothing from the worst panic attack ever.”
“We won’t watch you,” his grandmother said. “We’ll hold you up.”
His auntie nodded.
“If I do this, you can’t just tell me what to do all the time,” Cole said. “I have things I need to do. That’s why I’m here.”
“Sorry, Cole, but you’re a kid, and we’re responsible for you. You will do what we say.”
“Auntie, you don’t understand.”
“I understand, and I am not changing my mind. If I can’t bring you back to Winnipeg, then things are going to change here for you,” she said.
“Grandma…” Cole pleaded.
“I already lost your parents,” his grandmother said. “I can’t lose you, too.”
“You’re not going to lose me,” Cole said.
“You’re right, we won’t,” Auntie Joan said. “I mean, look at you. You’re having a panic attack right now, aren’t you?”
“You’re giving me one! Just wait until I get home for fricks-sake!”
(CB did not actually say frick.)
Auntie Joan reached into her purse and pulled out a full bottle of medication. She handed it to him. “Here.”
Cole hesitated for a moment, but took them. He gave the bottle a shake, rolled it across his fingers, then put it in his pocket.
“I’ll be there later.” Cole started to quickly walk away.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Auntie Joan said.
Cole stopped. Did he want to be defiant now? It would only make them watch him more, and make it harder for him to go out when he had to do something more important than tutor a friend. He swallowed hard. He could feel his pride sliding down his throat. “Can I go to Eva’s? I’m supposed to tutor her.”
Auntie Joan paused, and it felt like a power play, letting him know that she could keep him here, or allow him to leave. “Be home by nine.”
“Nine?” Cole calculated whether he could tutor Eva, break into the clinic to talk to Scott, and get back in time. It would be close, but he relented. “Okay, fine.”
“Not a minute later,” she warned.
“Yeah,” he said, and he continued to walk, feeling the bottle against his leg with each step.
“Hey.” When Eva opened the door she checked her phone for the time. “You’re early.”
Cole felt stupid, standing on the doorstep indecisively.
Eva leaned her hand against the door frame. “You can come in, you know.”
Cole nodded and stepped inside.
“Where’s your textbook?” she asked.
Cole pressed his palm against his forehead and grunted.
“No big deal, we can use mine.” Eva turned and walked towards the dining room table—expecting Cole to follow her, he decided. He tried not to notice how pretty she looked in her sweats, plaid shirt, loose ponytail, white tank top, and bare feet. He joined Eva at the dining room table, leaving an empty chair between them.
“Weird,” Eva said. That didn’t last long. She slid over to the chair beside Cole.
“I just didn’t want to seem like—”
“He speaks!”
“I don’t want Michael to be pissed at me. We were, like, friends today. Actually friends.”
“I noticed,” Eva said. “Big step.”
“Maybe it can be normal again,” Cole said.
“And all it took was a date with Pam,” Eva said.
“I’m still sorry about that,” Cole said, “but it wasn’t a date, really. We were hanging out.”
“Over dinner, alone?”
Cole stammered. Eva noticed.
“Sorry, I’m being stupid, it’s not my
business,” she said. “I really won’t tell Michael you came tonight, if that’ll make you feel more comfortable.”
“I kind of suck at lying,” Cole said.
“He won’t know, so he won’t ask,” Eva said. “You won’t even have to lie, you’ll just have to keep your mouth shut.”
Cole sighed.
“Glad you agree so emphatically.” Eva chuckled and pulled out her math textbook.
She started to flip through the pages. Meanwhile, Cole tried to breathe normally. Knowing he was going home after this, knowing he was jeopardizing his just-fixed friendship with Michael, and not wanting to leave even though he was aware of the risks, was making him sweat and shake. Eva started to write down some questions onto a pad of paper, flicking her hair behind her ear every time a lock fell against her cheek, looking frustratingly pretty, and Cole’s heart started to pound harder and harder. He mindlessly patted the bottle of meds in his pocket.
“Could you stop that?” Eva asked without looking at Cole.
He stopped patting his leg. He hadn’t noticed the soft rattle the pill bottle had been making. “Sorry.”
Eva put down her pencil. “What is that, anyway?”
“What’s what?”
“The thing in your pocket making sounds.”
Cole decided to show her. Still, he took forever, out of nervousness, out of embarrassment, because he didn’t want to seem weak, because he was weak. He placed them on the table, then he turned the bottle so that the label was facing her.
She picked it up, read it. “Alpra…”
“It’s anti-anxiety medication.”
“I’d get anxiety just trying to read the name of it.” Eva read it over a few times. She was reading to herself, but her lips were moving. “Would you be offended if I told you that I’m not surprised?”
“Zero percent offended.”
“And the whole…” Eva shook the bottle like it was a maraca.
“Nervous tick, I guess…involving nerve meds…” Cole said. “Go figure.”
“Apropos.” Eva handed Cole back the pills. He put them back in his pocket. He decided he was going to do his best not to tap on them again, but he was so much better at that when he didn’t have them.
“I think I could’ve used something like that when I was younger,” she said.
Monsters Page 14
