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Thad froze in the Cemetery entryway like a startled deer, grip tightening on the bouquet of flowers he’d picked in front of the library earlier that day.
The cemetery was usually a place that Thad could count on to be empty. It was out of the way, hidden deep in Old Bullworth Vale, and there was nothing about it that interested the other students. The people of Bullworth weren’t known for their sentimentality. Most of them wanted to avoid the Church as much as physically possible.
He didn’t come to the cemetery often- he had better uses for his time- but every once in a while it only seemed right to pay a visit. As much as he knew it was an illogical feeling, he couldn’t help but worry that she’d be disappointed in him if he didn’t bring her flowers and say hello.
When he caught a glimpse of familiar bright red hair through the rusty iron bars, for a second Thad thought someone had installed a mirror over one of the graves like a surreal headstone. Or maybe he was seeing her ghost? But as he approached the gate, his heart sunk and goosebumps cropped up all over him.
Dan.
Shit.
Thad whispered the curse under his breath reflexively, but it came out sounding like ‘thit’. He slapped a bony hand over his mouth, glad that it the wind blowing through the fall leaves was enough to drown out his voice.
He couldn’t believe Dan would do this- He’d become a sadistic jock, sure, but this level of cruelty was out of character even for him. Waiting to jump his own brother in the cemetery? How had he even known that Thad would be there? Did he follow more of a predictable pattern than he’d thought?
Thad’s prey-animal mind was racing at such a breakneck pace that it took him a full ten seconds to notice a sound over the dry rattling of the leaves. At first he thought Dan was cruelly laughing at him.
Then, a wet sniffle.
With a different sort of horror Thad finally realized what he’d actually stumbled upon. Less of a fear for his physical safety, more of an icy dread of the situation that he was being forced to confront.
Through the bars Thad could see his older brother clumsily smear tears off of his splotchy freckled face, his shoulders shaking with sobs. It was a surreal sight; Dan had always been the tougher of the two of them, even when he was still a nerd. He’d hassled Thad for crying too loud at the funeral.
“Mommy…” Dan moaned, barely comprehensible through his moist sobs. In any other situation hearing a Jock crying for his mommy would make Thad laugh, but this situation made his heart burn. He was surprisingly angry- how dare Dan act like he was above it all. How dare he act like he loved her, even after he’d bullied Thad mercilessly for taking her maiden name instead of their father’s. For years. How dare you, Dan, you bastard.
It also made Thad want to cry.
He was still contemplating whether or not to approach when Dan looked up, locked eyes with him, did a double take. As if to mimic his sibling the ginger jock froze in mortification, moist eyes suddenly wide. He quickly wiped his face on his sleeve, his expression hardening.
“You little prick!” He barked, the tears in his voice not wiped away as easily as the ones on his face. He didn’t seem to know what else to say. “Shut up! You better not say anything, you little turd!” Right over her grave.
Thad wasn’t controlling his body when he walked up, lifted his wiry arms and shoved his older brother as hard as he could. The real Thad was floating somewhere above the church, not concerned with the possibility that Dan’s new friends would beat him into a pulp. Dan fell back hard onto the cobblestone path, skidded a few inches.
Thad gently placed the flowers on the grave, noting with sort of a detached wonder that its concrete surface was spattered with raindrops. Not raindrops. He could hear Dan’s weak, breathy sobs on the ground beside him. His own eyes felt almost painfully dry, and he took some satisfaction in that.