Chapter Text
It’s the 22nd of December.
Every school holiday, the ride from XXXX to Faraway Town got easier, but that didn’t stop the dread from hanging over Kel’s head when the time came around to actually take his piece-of-junk car and drive the 150 miles back home. It wasn’t much of a unreasonably lengthy or elaborate trip as it was excruciatingly boring. Take a right from the campus parking lot, a left at the stop sign, and then straight down the interstate for two and a half hours. No stops, no twists and bends, not even a traffic light--only smooth asphalt linking one hick town to another. Winter drives like this one felt even worse than usual with the lackluster southern scenery. There were two seasons: hot and cold, and neither of them were especially nice to look at.
It wasn’t a surprise when his mind started to wander, given he had so much time on his hands and no sights to see. All of the rotten memories of the past seven years would start to play in his head on a loop if he let himself sit in silence for too long. He knew that there were plenty of good memories somewhere in there, too, but he’d rather stay steady and shut them out than risk himself falling into a dark place. The most effective distraction was constant external stimuli. Whether it was talking aloud, or keeping the radio on for unreasonable amounts of time, it was enough to keep his brain at ease. In fact, he kept the radio on so much that his roommate came back to their dorm one night with a pair of earplugs for himself and a pair of earbuds for Kel.
“Use these when you can.”
It was as embarrassing as it sounds, but he was thankful nonetheless. Unfortunately, he didn’t trust himself enough to use the headphones on the road, his ABBA’s Greatest Hits CD had been eaten by the car’s disc player back when he first tried to use it, and when he twisted the tuning knob of the radio, he was only met with static, so that’s all a bust, too.
And so, within the first hour of the drive to Faraway Town, to keep himself sane, the external monologuing began. These weren’t new. Sometimes he ranted about sports teams he was uninvested in or a movie he’d seen within the past few weeks. These were safe subjects that didn’t get out of hand easily. On drives where he was feeling especially lonely, he’d pretend Aubrey was in the car with him, chatting away as if they don’t only touch base every six months--not in a crazy way, though, at least, he hoped it wasn’t in a crazy way, just in a self soothing way. Yeah. Self soothe.
(They’re all coping in their different ways.)
Somewhere in between the senseless conversation, if one could even call it that, the buzz of his flip phone sounds from inside the glove compartment. He frowns. There aren't too many people that would be calling, and none of them are people he particularly felt like talking to. With a few stretches and the unbuckling of his seatbelt, he managed to reach his cell and flip it open.
Incoming Call: Hero
Hero definitely doesn’t make the cut. The first instinct that registers is to ignore the call entirely--shove the phone into his pocket and ignore the vibration until it stops. The next idea that pops into his brain is to simply hang up as soon as he answers and claim bad service.
“That’s so shitty, though.” His last few words are drawn out and whispered like he’s trying to hide something. It’s not like it would work very well. What was he gonna do? Crumple up a few loose receipts into the receiver? That sounds like something grade-school Kel would try to pull.
Honestly, there is no legitimate reason for his lack of enthusiasm for talking to Hero, but it’s not like any of their conversation since Kel left for college has evolved much past:
“How are you?”
“Fine, what about you?”
“I’ve been better.”
He lets out a long groan and beats his head against the rubber of the steering wheel. There’s much use in letting it ring out. Just prolonging the inevitable. Kel would feel guilty about it if he didn’t answer anyway. Plus, talking to Hero is better than ranting to himself like a maniac.
Bzzt. Bzzt. Bz--
“Hey, what’s up? Sorry, it took me a sec’ to, uh, get to my phone.” He winced at his own lie. What was the point of even saying that?
“It’s fine! I’m just finishing packing up for my flight tomorrow morning.”
“Cool. Sounds…” Sounds? Sounds what? “Fun.” End me now.
Hero laughs through the phone, but through the static it sounds too far away and phony. “Totally. I wish I could do this everyday.”
“Seriously?”
“No, that was sarcasm.”
“Oh.”
“...”
“...”
“So…”
“Did you need something?” This is exactly why he didn’t want to pick up the phone.
“Oh! Yeah, actually, I was wondering when you were getting to Mom and Dad’s tomorrow. Trying to make a time table, so we can get everything done before you get there.”
“Get what done? It’s just me.”
“Kel. Seriously? Cooking, cleaning, gift wrapping… there’s stuff to do.” He laughs again, but it sounds even more forced than before. This is really why Kel didn’t want to pick up the phone.
“My bad.”
“It’s fine. So, when are you getting in? I should be there before lunch. You’re two hours away, right? Hm… It’d be great if you left after three and got here for dinner. Does that work?”
Shit. “It’s two and a half, and I’m, uh, actually, already on my way.”
“...What.”
This could be bad. He taps the pads of his fingers against the steering wheel. “Yeah, I decided to come back early and surprise Mom.” There’s another lie. The truth is, his roommate had left for winter break two days earlier, and the sudden lack of human interaction, even for 24 hours, nearly drove Kel up the wall. Coming down early felt like the best option if he wanted to preserve his sanity.
“She doesn’t know?”
“Yeah, that’s kind of what a surprise i--”
“You know she’s gonna flip her shit, right?”
It took him an unreasonable amount of effort to keep himself from hanging up right then and there. What is his problem? The world isn’t going to collapse on itself if Kel gets there a day early or a day late. “It’ll be cool,” he insists. “I can help clean before you get there.”
“I mean, you can, but that doesn’t change the fact that she’ll freak out when you knock on the door and the house isn’t perfect or whatever.”
He taps his fingers harder. “It isn’t my fault that she procrastinates getting shit done, then waits for you to show up and do it all yourself. That’s on her.”
“I know, but…”
“I’ll clean tonight and tomorrow morning, and you can start getting ready for whatever you’re planning on doing. That’s less work for you and Mom. Sound good?” This phone call needs to end as soon as possible.
“...”
“Hello?”
There’s a sigh. “That’s fine. But you should at least call and let her know you’re heading that way. How close are you?”
“Uh…” Kel glances to the side of the road for any familiar signage or landmarks. The sun had fully set at least an hour ago, which makes it harder to see much of anything more than 50 yards ahead of him, but there doesn’t seem to be anything remotely around this way regardless. “I think I passed the state line twenty or thirty minutes ago, so… maybe half an hour?”
“Jesus, Kel.”
“Dude, I’m sorry! It won’t happen again, I swear.” Lectured once again. It might be because their parents put his brother on such a high pedestal, the age gap, or both, but sometimes Hero acts more like a dad or a teacher than a brother. There are expectations set, and Kel never could reach them no matter how high he flung himself. Grades were, and still are, extremely mediocre, he has no talents or hobbies that he excels in, or any passions… Aimlessness worked fine when they were kids, but the older they got, the more Hero seemed to tower over him. “I can’t do anything right.”
“Hm?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Okay, then. Call her or don’t--do what you want. Try to be a bit more considerate next time, okay?”
There is no fucking way he’s feeding into this. He flips his phone shut with a quick snap of the wrist and tosses it into the backseat before he has enough time to change his mind.
“A time table… Jesus Christ. Has he always been this dramatic?”
An imaginary pink-haired Aubrey shrugs from the backseat, and Kel spends the rest of the drive ranting to her about the whole ordeal until he has nothing left to say.
By the time he pulls into his parent’s driveway, his voice has gone a bit hoarse, but a substantial weight has been lifted from his chest. Kel loves Hero, he really does, they just missed each other’s mark more often than they hit. It’s been this way since they were kids, but as the two grew apart and lived separate lives, the gap between them widened. It used to bother him--in fact, he used to obsess over it a little when he first noticed it--but he came to accept that that’s just how life goes. People change and grow apart. It happens to everyone.
The house looks the same as ever: freshly cut grass, Hector’s empty dog house in the corner, and the light that seeped through the sealed blinds of the dining room illuminating the unbloomed azalea bushes his mother had planted ages ago. Being out this late in Faraway Town reminds him of all of the times he’d snuck out junior year. Him and Aubrey had a secret signal. She’d throw two pebbles against his bedroom window then let out an unconvincing bird whistle (well, she stopped doing that last bit after calling it stupid and lame and kid shit ). There was no possible way Hero didn’t catch on. He never said anything though. Sometimes Kel wondered if Hero had ever snuck out to see Mari.
There was one time he’d seen Hero leave the house in the middle of the night, but he hadn’t sneaked , he just left. Kel remembers begging to go with--asking where he was going, and so forth--but Hero didn’t let him. He said he could come next time. Now that he thinks back on it, Hero was probably going to meet Mari that night.
He smiles to himself at the thought of the two running off into the woods together, but it fades as a dull pain settles in his chest. There were the memories. That was the day before she… Kel sniffed and shut the car off. No sense in ruminating over the past. The icy air stings his eyes as he swings open the door, and he proceeds to grab the two duffles he’d packed for the break. As he picks up his bags, his phone falls down to the floorboards with a soft thud . It must’ve fell between the luggage when he chucked it back there earlier. A small light on it’s side is blinking green, indicating unread messages. Kel retrieves it in a swift motion, and stuffs it back into his pocket without a second thought.
Ignoring the pending messages doesn’t solve a thing, though. The feeling of dread from the drive comes back for a visit as he walks down the driveway to the front door. He really didn’t even consider the consequences of coming down a day early until Hero had spelled it out for him. The whole interaction pissed him off, especially that last bit about being considerate, but it was all true. Their mom is going to kill him .
Before he can let himself get too anxious about his mother’s reaction, he knocks on the door hard: Thunk, thunk, thunk. He can hear a television program playing from inside. It’s almost 8:30--past their usual time for dinner. They were probably watching TV together before Kel came over and ruined it all.
A few more moments pass. Thunk, thunk, thu--
The door swings open. Kel braces for his mother’s bombardment of fury, but it isn’t his mother who answers the door.
“Kel?”
It’s Aubrey.