Cherry Cobler
The first day of school was nerve wracking, quietly eventful; it struck up arguments between parents and kids on how early was early and how much time do you truly need to stand in front of the mirror. The first day of school meant a new lunch period, new designated lunch seats and relatively new classmates if you're a freshman. Chris wasn't a freshman. He was a junior, which meant he shouldn't be nervous.
But he was. It's been three days and Josh Washington still insisted he didn't exist. Sam was nice enough to hang out with him because she felt sorry for his "nerdy ass" and Ashley was perfect so of course she stuck around out of sheer guilt.
Regardless. Chris found himself best friendless on the way to school, no rowdy passenger in the seat beside him, changing shirts and pants and smoking out his window. Chris, for the first time in three years, drove alone to school.
"You're so pouty. Jesus flapjacks, Chris."
Mike finds him first, standing alone on his phone in the quiet cafeteria an hour before the bell. He's grown since last year, muscles in his arms that weren't there before along with the beginnings of a beard. It doesn't look good. Chris doesn't tell him.
"Washington still snubbing you?"
"Can you tell?" Chris asks, trying and failing to hide his misery. He's dressed poorly in one of his dad's jackets, a sweater and at least two shirts, maybe three (Chris isn't sure he got dressed in a fucking hurry, ok). If Josh were here he'd say Chris looks like a belligerent art reject. But Josh wasn't here.
"Yeah. How was the mountain?" Chris asks, cutting Mike off on whatever he was about to say.
"Chill. I think Hannah has a crush on me."
It took four years and a trip to a mountain for Mike to almost hit the nail on the head. Chris pockets his phone, sitting up from the wall. Mike pats him on the shoulder.
"Josh's been lookin' real good, man." Mike leers, inching a little too close into Chris' space. Chris frowns. He wonders if Mike is trying to be supportive. Almost everyone knew about his blatant crush except for maybe Josh. But Josh had always looked good, really good even during that awful punk phase freshman year. Now he was a bit taller, bit thinner and his jawline finally fit his face in ways that shouldn't be legal. Still. Consistently all the Washington children looked really good. It was fact.
"That's my bro." Chris huffs, cheeks heating up and Mike's hand squeezes his shoulder.
"Better make up soon before someone steals him away."
It feels vaguely threatening, enough that Chris' heart flares up but Emily is walking towards them, polished in navy with hair way, way shorter than it used to be and the conversation ends.
"Figures you two would be early." Emily snorts, a large tote hooked around her elbow.
"Class president in the making, baby." Mike tugs at the collar of his leather jacket, smiling widely. Emily cuts her eyes to Chris, who shrugs. She pats Mike on the arm.
"Of course. How was the summer?"
"Boring." Chris answers the same time Mike forces out "Josh is pissed with Chris."
Emily raises an eyebrow. "I didn't know you guys fight. I thought it was the perfect marriage."
"We aren't married." Chris grumbles, tucking his hands into his jean pockets.
Mike looks at him. "Why did you not go?"
"Go where?" Emily interjects quickly.
"Josh invite us to Mt. Washington and Chris here bailed. Why?" Mike fixes his gaze on Chris, who fidgets under its intensity.
"You were invited to Mt. Washington and you didn't even go? What the hell, Chris?" Emily frowns.
Chris fights back a groan. Ashley hadn't come out yet. It wasn't his place to shout her business. But saying he bailed on Josh for Ashley out loud seemed just as bad. Chris sighs.
"I was with Ashley." Chris admits.
Emily slaps a hand over her mouth. "Oh my god. No wonder Josh looks so pissed."
Chris' brow furrows, mouth opening to respond but he's following Mike's surprised gaze and Emily's widened eyes. He sees Josh with Sam, both striding into the cafeteria with a quiet confidence. But Josh isn't perky like usual, isn't high fiving or bumping fists. No he's-
"Josh looks really tired." Emily takes the words out of Chris' head. Except Josh didn't just look tired; he looked exhausted, fine dark lines tracing under his eyes like a bruise. Bronzed skin a pale shade of brown, hair messy, arms tucked into the pockets of his pullover and it's so painfully not typical first day of school Josh Washington. Despite the fact that he looks awful, Josh still manages to pull off the disgruntled, teenage angst look so well that Chris tries not to wheeze.
Mike whistles from beside him and Emily smacks his arm with a sneer. Josh notices them, pausing when he sees Chris and he's averting his eyes to the ground. Sam stops beside him, turning to Josh. They speak quietly, Mike making 'oooh' noises. Chris wants to punch him.
"Oh man, you guys are here early. What are we staring at?" Ashley asks, bubbly and too damn energetic for 7:45 in the am. Josh sees her, immediately tensing up and he's turning around, walking back through the rows of tables. Sam's head snaps to them with a vague look of annoyance before she's marching after him.
"Ah so you guys are still fighting." Ashley acknowledges, solemnly.
Chris turns to her with a sigh. "Yep."
"So," Emily starts. "If you dumped Josh for flowerpot over here, did you guys at least finally bang?"
Ashley flushes red as Chris stammers for a response. She hastily beats him to it.
"We aren't going out. Ever."
Mike physically recoils. "Ouch."
Ashley holds up her hands, shaking her head fiercely. "U-Um, not like that I'm just... not attracted to... guys. At all?"
Chris commends her internally, relaxing a bit. Emily's eyes narrow and she's assessing Ashley with a certain level of acceptance. Mike's mouth hangs open in shock. He schools it into a look of nonchalance but they all saw it.
"This explains a lot." Emily shifts her tote onto her shoulder. "My opinion has changed of you Chris."
Chris raises an eyebrow. "From what to what?"
"From nerd to moderately attractive nerd. You should ditch the faux hawk though. It's kinda bad." And with that Emily saunters off, hips swaying with the click of heels. They watch after her, Ashley and Mike a bit too tuned in on the way her ass moves. Chris clears his throat.
"I'm gonna go try to fix shit." He says lamely, heading off in the direction Sam and Josh disappeared to without waiting for an answer.
It's ten minutes later. He's searched the parking lot, the gym, the trailers, the fucking janitor's closet and he doesn't find Josh or Sam. But he does stumble upon Hannah, who sends a glare so fierce in his direction it almost matches the one Beth gave him last week over Josh not taking his meds.
Chris holds up his hands in surrender. "Look, I'm trying to fix it."
Hannah tosses her hair over her shoulder. "You should've not been dumb to begin with. Jesus, Chris, I expected you to be better."
Chris slumps. "I know. I know. I was just helping out a friend."
"You should've told him." Hannah folds her arms over her chest, bracelets clinking together. "He would've understood. But instead you had us spend thirty minutes telling him his best friend was not coming and didn't even have the decency to call. Beth is going to kill you."
"I'm surprised my carcass isn't laid out in front of Josh's door like a sacrifice." Chris says, biting his lip nervously.
Hannah sighs, face softening and she places a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure it was important. Whatever it was."
"I helped someone not get kicked out? Or lose their college fund?"
Hannah blinks. "Yeah, that's pretty important. Who was it?"
"Uh," Chris answers dumbly and Hannah seems to understand, placing a finger to his lips.
"It's okay. Just tell Josh."
"I've been trying to find him and Sam but it's like they evaporated into air." Chris thrusts his hands out dramatically. Hannah giggles, a dainty hand placed over her mouth. The bracelet on her wrists matches Beth and Josh's.
"I passed them not too long ago." Hannah points to the third connection hallway. "Beth's with them though. So if you want to actually get a word in, I'd wait."
Hannah leaves him with a wink, disappearing down the hall Chris just walked down. Chris groans softly, checking his schedule for any classes he might've have with Josh. He knew his best friend was taking theater again, along with AP Studio, IB English and anatomy. Or was it History? Chris mentally slaps himself. Faint laughter comes from the hallway Hannah pointed to, voices growing louder as they move towards him. Chris follows Hannah's advice and makes the shameful journey back to the cafeteria until the bell rings.
He doesn't see Josh his first three periods which only left lunch, AP Physics and Advanced Computer Sciences. In reality it only left lunch. Chris waits inside his classroom, checking through his new messages as the group is divided among lunch periods. Ashley and Matt had lunch A, Sam, Mike and Jess had lunch B, leaving Emily, Beth, Hannah and Josh for lunch C. Chris cringes, head hitting his desk with a thump.
He was going to die. Here. In this high school. Chris knows Emily doesn't care for Hannah, but her and Beth remained considerably close. Which meant that Chris was going to have to sit with them. Emily finds his class immediately once the bell rings, dragging him to face his fate with what could only be considered a witch's love.
The cafeteria is packed, full of familiar and plump, new faces. It's loud, trays hitting tables, feet pounding against the tile, reminding Chris of the animal channel. Emily spots Beth, her bright red beanie amongst a sea of brown and blonde and black. Beth waves them over, friendly demeanor melting into a nasty smirk when she sees Chris.
Emily forces him into a seat, gracefully sitting beside him. Josh is nowhere to be seen. Chris sweats, staring down at the crinkled brown bag in his lap with trepidation. Beth leans forward, hands folded under her chin.
"Better be good. You have five seconds."
"Ashley's gay, I helped." Chris squeaks out.
Beth frowns, sitting up. "What?"
Hannah rolls her eyes as Emily repeats what Chris had said in blunt, crisp words. Beth's eyes go round before she's frowning again, staring at Chris with a look of disgust.
"You fucked her?"
"No. No. I had to be her fake boyfriend!" Chris exclaims, alarmed.
Beth sighs, relieved. "Oh my god, Chris, you should've said that first. Jesus Christ, did you tell Josh?"
Emily wrinkles her nose. "Where is Josh?"
"Hasn't shown up." Hannah answers easily, flipping through a magazine.
Chris sighs. "I have not told him."
Beth clicks her teeth, digging around her knapsack. She sets a container down in front of herself, sliding another one to Hannah. Emily fishes out a neatly wrapped bento. Chris sets his brown bag on the table. The three of them exchange a look before Emily's snatching the bag as if it's a pile of shit. She checks the contents with an eyeroll, showing Chris' pb&j to the others, who only flinch.
"I'm glad I brought extra." Emily takes out a small plastic lunch box with a penguin in goggles on the front. She points at it and then to Chris before setting it down in front of him. Emily grabs a guy's sleeve who's walking by, setting the brown bag on his tray with disgust. She shoos the kid away, ignoring the stuttering blush on his face.
"Very nice." Beth commends. "Eat. She only cooks for dumbasses and me."
Hannah is popping the lid off her container, savory cuts of pork wedged into the middle, surrounded with vegetables and a small container filled with mangoes. Beth's is similar. Emily nudges Chris in the side and he opens what's given to him, mouth watering at the contents. There's a lot packed in the small space. Rows of marinated beef, rice with sesame seeds, rolled egg, broccoli, something brown and a slot of pineapple.
"Eat." Emily snorts. The twins giggle in response so Chris does so, a bit too fast perhaps but it's good, so good. Emily cocks a private smile, turning to her food with quiet concentration.
Josh still hasn't appeared by the time lunch is over, Beth already standing to go find him.
"He's been pissy since Saturday. It only seems to have gotten worse." Beth sighs.
"We figured it was because of your fight and the new antidepressants his psychiatrist put him on." Hannah adds, taking their two empty containers and placing them in her bag.
"Go make up so we don't have to bitch." Emily says, chopstick holding the leg of a squid. "As in go. Find him. He was quiet in Studio, really quiet. It was scary."
Chris nods his head, exchanging a look with Beth and they're both getting ready to leave. He thanks Emily for the food, who only responds with a modest shrug, before trailing behind Beth out of the cafeteria.
They find Josh in the school parking lot, legs folded out his car window, smoke curling into the air in easy movements. Beth knocks on the windshield, Josh's tired eyes rolling to look her. He notices Chris, lips pursing around his cigarette, and he's sitting up slowly.
"I took my meds." Josh tells Beth as if that's the only reason she'd hunt him down. Beth rolls her eyes, flicking the tip of his nose with a fond look. Josh rubs his face, embarrassed.
"Talk. I'm leaving." Beth hurries out quickly, prying the car door open before Josh can lock himself away and roll up the window. Chris grabs the door, Josh burning glare moving from his sister's retreating form to him.
"What?" Josh bites out.
Chris swallows. "Look, man-"
"You could've fucking called. We waited for an hour and I kept calling and you didn't answer. Your dad didn't even know you said you were coming. He said you were going to Ashley's. Ashley, Chris, really? You promised." The heat in Josh's voice dies down towards the end, tapering off into a soft, childlike disappointment. Chris' chest feels tight, hand squeezing into a fist.
"I'm sorry. Ashley needed my help."
"I needed your help." Josh mumbles quietly, so quiet Chris almost doesn't catch it. Chris tenses, remembering his dream.
"I'm really bummed, Chris." Josh takes his cigarette in between his fingers. "You let me down. I needed you."
Josh's voice is strained, teeth gritting and it feels like he's angry at more than just Chris not calling. The lunch bell rings from the high school building. Chris opens his mouth to ask what happened but Josh shakes his head, digging his tiny bud into the dashboard. He lights up another with an unfamiliar flinch when the flame produces.
"I don't want to talk to you, Cochise." Josh tells him tiredly. "Just go. You're gonna miss class."
Chris sighs heavily, moving over to the passenger seat and he's sliding inside before Josh can lock the doors. Josh groans, slamming the open car door shut. They don't talk, just sit in festering silence, Josh leaned up against the door.
"I had a dream you got fucked up. Your face was all," Chris makes a snipping motion. "It was all cut up and bloody and you came to my room."
"Definitely a dream." Josh responds, grumpy.
"I'm sorry I didn't come."
"Okay." But Josh doesn't look at him, picking at the loose threads in the hole of his jeans. Chris eventually leaves, phone buzzing frantically with threatening texts from Jess. Josh is quiet when he goes, eyes fixed on the steering wheel. It doesn't feel like progress.
Chris knew it wasn't going to be easy, knew that Josh doesn't forgive and forget but he didn't think he'd go two more days before Josh actually decided to reach out.
It's barely 8 in the evening, Chris elbow deep in Economics homework when Josh calls.
"Hey man."
There's no response, no breathing. Just quiet. Chris eases back in his seat, eraser in between his teeth and he checks his phone. The call was still connected.
"Josh?"
Still no reply aside from a low buzzing sound. Like flies. Chris frowns, rubbing his eyes in frustration. He adjusts his glasses.
"Look, Josh-"
"Cochise," comes Josh's voice, deep and rusty and every hair on Chris' arm stands up at the unfamiliar tone. "Can you come get me?"
"Y-yeah. Where are you?"
"Lexington." Josh answers simply. Why was Josh at a bar? There's static in the receiver, thick, wet coughing coming from the other line. Chris tugs on a jacket from the closet, phone wedged in between his shoulder and ear.
"You still there?"
"Yeah, bro."
"I'm leaving now." Chris tells him, swiping his keys from his desk. He waves bye to his dad in the living room, stumbling out the door. Josh doesn't hang up, doesn't speak just remains present on the phone until Chris sees him standing outside the aging bar. A few drunks linger outside. Josh stands alone, skin glistening, dressed plainly in a damp flannel and jeans.
Chris pulls up in front of him, clicking his phone to end the call. Josh climbs inside without a word. He smells faintly of bleach and old coins.
"What are you doing here? Why are you wet?"
Josh shrugs, paler than usual. "Drinking."
He doesn't smell like alcohol.
"Josh, you're not even-"
"Dude. Shh." Josh grinds out, clenching his jaw. He folds his arms across his chest, pressing himself into the door as if he could bleed through it. Chris bites his bottom lip, annoyed, but begins the drive to the Washington house anyway.
"Why the fuck did you call me then?" Chris clenches the steering wheel. "You could have called Beth or Hannah or Sam."
"Sam would've bitched. Like you. You're bitching. Stop."
"Yeah, because my best friends at a bar at-"
"We aren't friends, Chris. I'm still pissed, really really pissed at you for leaving me." Josh snaps, nostrils flaring.
"Seriously? I didn't leave you okay? I didn't even show up so try again."
"You're such a fucking dick." Josh snarls, a vicious gurgle working its way up his throat and Chris slams on the breaks, head snapping in Josh's direction with wide eyes. Josh's hands hit the dashboard, the loud crunch of plastic echoing the car. Chris stares at him, mouth falling open, adrenaline pumping through his veins as Josh stares back, hands curled into fists, stares back seething with rage and fucking growling at him.
"Fuck you, Chris." Josh kicks the passenger door open, ripping the seatbelt from his chest with such ferocity it tears. Chris grabs Josh's arm, feeling the clench of muscle underneath the fabric. Josh yanks his arm away.
"I'll walk home." Josh hisses, slipping out the car and slamming the door shut. Chris calls for him, halfway out the door and Josh is gone. Only the expanse of dark forest lays before him, the steady ding from his car saying he's left the lights on. Chris stands there, a hand on the top of his car, staring, staring deep into the darkness as if Josh will reappear. He replays the scene over and over. From the snarl to the growl to the dent in his dashboard.
Chris covers his mouth to fight the tremble that works its way through his body.