both of his hands on either side of his body on the concrete floor.
“She was just concerned for you, Gav,” Brody says as he leans forward a little. “That was nice of her, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was,” Gavin says as he looks from me to Brody, then back to me again.
Without warning, Gavin jumps up from his seat, plugs his earbuds back into his ears, and walks off the porch and back into the yard.
He turns back to face me now and grins widely. It reminds me of what a child might do the first time he sees Santa; full of a combination of joy and excitement.
“Thank you, Evan!” he shouts, stirring both Brody and I into a united hush.
Brody snickers. “Dude, you have to be quiet. It’s late.”
Gavin hunches his shoulders forward awkwardly and chuckles before whispering, “Sorry.”
The biggest smile is still stretched across his face as he looks down at his feet and continues on his path of wide circles in the grass.
I look back at my house once again; worried about being discovered out here; no lights, no opening door.
“They didn’t hear him. They would have been out here by now if they had,” Brody says confidently.
I look back at Brody and notice him glance at my clothes. Feeling a little naked in my pajamas suddenly, I fold my arms across my chest. I look out at Gavin again. He has stopped walking circles and is staring into my yard. I follow the pathway of his frozen stare, but I don’t see anything but trees and yard. “What is he looking at?” I ask Brody, quietly.
“Nothing,” he says, flatly.
I look back at Brody, expecting him to give me more to go on than “Nothing.”
He sits back in his chair and sighs deeply. “He gets stuck sometimes.”
Gavin’s stance is stiff but his face is slack; not the joyful, smiling boy I saw moments ago.
“He gets stuck? What does that mean exactly?” I question, still not getting it.
“There is no ‘exactly’ when it comes to Gavin.” Brody sounds agitated. He leans back in his chair and places one leg on the chair across from him. “Moment of detachment. Don’t know where he goes.” Sadness and confusion settle into his handsome face.
I’m pulled to try and bring logic to the confusion I see in him. “Maybe he doesn’t go anywhere. Maybe he is just listening,” I say.
“To what?” Brody asks as his eyes find mine.
I think of myself and how I feel when I spiral - the voice in my head within the rage of the spiral.
“Evan.” Brody’s voice pulls me back from my thoughts. His questioning bronze-toned eyes await my response.
My thoughts carefully cascade into words. “Well, maybe he hears voices or something. Maybe his voice inside of his head. I’ve heard of that happening to people.”
Brody stares at me and I fully expect him to laugh, mock me even, but instead he nods and looks back at Gavin. “Yeah, maybe.”
I hadn’t thought about it until now, but I wonder why they are out here so late. “Hey, do your parents know you two are out here?”
Brody looks at me sideways and smirks. “Yes, my mommy knows I’m out here.”
I roll my eyes and brush a pesky fly out of my face. I knew the smart ass jock-bad boy would come out again sooner than later. “Ha Ha,” I utter under my breath.
“Just messing with you,” he says slyly, then clears his throat. “Mom is sleeping because she gets up for work at six. Dad? Well, dad isn’t here.”
I want to ask where his dad is, but I hesitate, worried I might be crossing some kind of line with him.
Silence falls between us and I look back out at Gavin, walking circles again, bouncing his head in time to the music coming from his earbuds.
“So, Evan, where did you move from?” Brody asks.
“San Francisco, California. My dad got a new job.”
“What year are you?” His question is odd.
“Year?” I ask.
“Sophomore, Junior?” he probes.
I scoff, feeling the minor insult of looking any younger than a senior. “Do I look that young?”
He doesn’t respond,