Andy Squared (11 page)

“Yeah, but to share a room with your sister?” Ryder sat down on the edge of the bed and Andrew just shrugged again.

“It's a tight fit, that's all. Although lately she has been pissing me off about college.”

“Why? What's going on now?”

“We got letters from some of the scouts that were at the game. Two offers for each of us, but one of them I don't like, and that's the one school that offered a scholarship to both of us. Of course Andrea thinks we're both going there.”

“But?” Ryder asked.

“But I don't want to go there and she just doesn't get it.”

Silence settled over them as Andrew flopped over to lie on his bed. He stared at Andrea's side of the room. He should be able to just tell her no. Twins or not, it was his life to live, not hers. “I shouldn't let Andy dictate my life.”

“How did you both wind up with the nickname Andy?” Ryder asked.

Andrew reached up and smoothed his hair. “My grandfather, mom's dad, gets confused sometimes. He's really bad with names. When we were younger, like you already heard, we looked a lot alike. So he just shortened it to Andy for both of us and, when he called, we'd both come running. It kind of stuck.”

Ryder nodded as if it made sense. “Have the two of you always been close?”

“Of course. We always did everything together growing up. When Mom and Dad signed us up for sports when we were seven, we both decided on soccer. And we've stayed with it.”

The room started to warm up to a comfortable temperature. Beneath them they could hear the football game on the television and the cursing and laughter of the men. The doorbell rang and Andrea's laughter rose above the din. Seconds later footsteps thundered up the steps and the door flung open.

“Oh, you're in here.”

“Hi, Ryder. Happy Thanksgiving,” Sarah said, peering in over Andrea's shoulder.

“You too, Sarah,” Ryder replied.

Sarah giggled as she pushed past Andrea into the room, cleared off a spot on the bed, and sat down. Ryder gave her an awkward smile.

“Okay, I admit it's a really tight fit when there're more people in here,” Andrew said and frowned. He pushed himself off the bed and grabbed his jacket.

“Where are you going?” Andrea asked, picking something off of her dresser.

“For a walk? Come on, Ryder.”

“Wait, Andrew. Charlie called a little earlier. He said he would be by soon to watch the game.”

Andrew turned on his sister and frowned. “Why didn't you tell me when he called? I don't know why he's coming over to watch it. He knows I hate football.”

She shrugged and flopped down on the floor, leaning back against her bed. “So what? I didn't think it would matter. Besides, I didn't know Ryder was coming over.”

“Hey, it's cool. I can watch the game,” Ryder said. He looked at Andrew and shrugged.

“No, it's okay. Let's just go.”

The two of them left the room and headed downstairs, pulling on their jackets. At the door they slipped on their boots. The open door admitted a blast of cold air, and Andrew took a deep breath as he stepped outside with Ryder. To fend off the cold, they instantly wrapped their arms around themselves.

“Okay, maybe this is torture,” Andrew admitted. They started walking.

“Hey, we can always go back to my place. No one's there,” Ryder suggested, not looking at him. “And it's warm.”

“Yeah, but if Charlie comes over…”

“No offense, Andy, but Charlie's a real prick. He acts like you can only be friends with him, like you're still in third grade or something. I'd say he wanted you if I didn't know how much he was into Sarah.”

“Hey, that's not funny!” Andrew gave him a light shove and stepped off the porch onto the frozen ground. “He's just…I don't know. You're new, and he and I have known each other forever. He's a little cautious when it comes to new people.”

“Yeah, fine, but no one else has treated me like he has,” Ryder pointed out, and shoved his hands deep in his pockets.

“You also only really try to hang out with us,” Andrew countered, and headed up the hill behind the house. “I haven't seen you try to hang around anyone else at school or on the weekends.”

Ryder trailed after him. “You're not with me all the time, Andy. I've talked to other people. Karina's a nice girl. Just because I only hang out with you outside of school doesn't mean I don't talk to others.”

Andrew wasn't sure why, but the admission made him feel uncomfortable. Not much, but enough to feel it.

“We could go to the movies,” Ryder suggested after a few minutes, letting the subject of Charlie drop. “We used to do that in Texas. After we had our turkey, we'd drive into San Antonio for the day and catch a movie.”

“Who goes to see a movie on Thanksgiving?”

“A lot of people. You should see how busy the theaters get.”

“Not here.”

“You might be surprised.”

“I'll think about it,” Andrew said after a few moments.

Up on the hill not a single sound reached them. No loud football game blared on the television, no fans cheered or booed, no girls giggled. Just the two of them, with the old barn standing sentry. The water in the pond had frozen on the edges, but the center remained clear. They stood on the banks. A gust of wind blew and the tree house creaked. Andrew looked up at it, inspecting the rotting boards.

“That's going to fall soon.”

Ryder looked up with him, making a small noise. “Never know. Sometimes old things hang on longer than you'd expect.”

“Maybe. Andrea and I used to play in it all the time when we were kids. Dad helped us build it one summer. We both used to fit in there so well,” he said, a bit wistfully.

Clearing off a spot on a rock, Andrew sat down. He winced and shifted, the natural seat colder than he expected it to be. Ryder sat next to him and together they looked down the hill toward the house. With the leaves off the trees, Andrew could see all the way to the road. Every so often a car drove by, the sound muffled by the distance and the snow blanketing the ground. Ryder moved closer and their shoulders and legs pressed together, giving each other a little extra heat with their shared warmth.

“You know,” Ryder started, pausing for a moment. “I like it up here. Despite it being so damn cold all the time, it's nice.”

“Do you miss Texas?”

“The warmth, yeah. But this is good, too. I miss some of my old friends, but I guess they weren't really friends.”

“Why do you say that?”

“They don't return my calls.”

“Oh.” Andrew jostled his shoulder against Ryder. “I'm sorry.”

“Nah, don't be. I kind of figured they wouldn't. Besides, I've got the best friend I've ever had,” Ryder said, giving him a little nudge back.

Andrew smiled. “Do you miss your parents?”

Ryder hesitated before answering. “Yeah. It was hard at first, and it still is sometimes. I miss Mom's cooking. She made the best damn fried chicken ever. And I miss riding with Dad. I wish he hadn't gone, but I know it's what he loves doing, and it's not as if he had a choice.”

“I can't imagine what it would be like if my dad went off. I don't know what Mom would do, either.”

“It's a hard decision. But with two of you, I think your mom would stay here, don't you?”

“Yeah. Maybe,” Andrew paused, and then looked up at him. “Okay, it's cold. Let's go see a movie.”

“Really?” Ryder's face lightened and broke into a lopsided grin.

“Yeah, really.”

“It's a date,” he laughed, pulling Andrew close.

Andrew flushed faintly and nodded. “Okay, a date then. But no food,” he warned.

“Oh come on, you have to have some snacks. Popcorn? Soda? Sno-caps?”

“After everything I ate?” Andrew made a face. “You can have it. I'll just watch the movie.”

Ryder laughed and pulled him close, pressing a small kiss to his lips before pulling away. Andrew's face stung, but he wasn't sure if it came from the frigid air or the kiss. He pulled Ryder back to give a longer one, deepening it when a small groan emerged from Ryder's throat.

“Let's get out of here and go before Charlie shows up,” Ryder said softly when they broke apart. “But don't think you can't repeat that. Anytime.”

There were a few more cars in front of the house when Andrew and Ryder returned from the movies in Utica. Ryder had been right and gloated about it; the parking lot of the theater had been full. They bought their tickets to a new action movie that promised to be loud and explosive, bought some snacks—the smell had enticed Andrew, despite his claim of being too full—and found seats. They talked about the movie as they left the theater and headed for home.

Andrew parked in the road to avoid blocking anyone from leaving, and they climbed out of the truck and joked their way up to the front door. It opened as soon as they reached it, and Andrew found himself staring Charlie in the face. “Hey, Charlie.”

“I've been here for hours, where the hell did you go?”

“We went to the movies,” Andrew said, hesitating only a second. He glanced up at Ryder, who stood there as if bored, hands deep in his pockets. His face was blank.

“Who the hell goes to the movies on Thanksgiving?” Charlie asked, snorting.

“Apparently a lot of people. The theater was nearly full. You should have seen it,” Andrew said. He moved past Charlie and stepped inside the house. A new football game must have been on, because the guests still cheered from the other room. Andrew hung his jacket on the coat rack instead of bringing it up to his room, and Ryder put his over it to save room.

“Come watch the game,” Charlie said, a hint of anger tingeing his voice. Andrew walked into the dining room and found the table set up with the desserts from before. He looked at them longingly. That pecan pie looked really good, and he didn't usually like pecans.

“Man, you know I hate football.”

“Come on, it's the
least
you could do after ditching me here.”

“Ditch you? You weren't even here when we left!”

Charlie crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Your sister told you I was coming.”

“Yeah, after we made plans,” Andrew lied. “And she said you
might
be coming. But fine, I'll watch the damn game with you.”

Charlie nodded and shot Ryder a dark look before disappearing into the living room. Ryder stared after him. “Man, I don't get it. He really does hate me.”

“Don't let it get to you. He's being an ass.”

“The rest of the soccer team?” Ryder asked.

“They've got their own groups too, you know?” Andrew shrugged and poured himself and Ryder a cup of soda. “I'll talk to him about it tomorrow. I'll hang out with him and he'll forget this whole thing.”

“All right,” Ryder said, taking his cup and bumping Andrew with his hip. “Whatever you say. I'll play nice.” He winked at him and walked out to the living room, Andrew close behind.

*

Charlie's room was just as much a disaster as it had been the last time Andrew visited, if not a little worse. He had to wade through junk to get to the desk, and when he pulled the chair out, a pile of papers slipped onto the floor. Frowning, he pushed them off and sat down; the bed was a mess of sheets and clothes.

“How can you live in this mess?”

“What's wrong with it? I know where everything is.”

“I'm surprised you haven't had Hazmat come in and designate this hazardous waste or something.”

Charlie shrugged and flopped back on his bed, squishing any clean and dirty clothes that were in the way.

Andrew picked a shirt up off the floor, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it at him.

The two of them never could sit still without talking for long; Charlie didn't like things to be quiet. Andrew thought about that as they sat there awkwardly and wondered what that meant. He and Ryder could sit and not say anything for long periods of time and it felt right. As the minutes passed, he started to squirm uneasily in his seat.

“Man, we always had something to talk about, and we don't anymore.”

“To be honest, we never really talked about much,” Andrew said. He pushed at a glass on the desk and saw a water mark under it. Inside a sticky residue stained the bottom of the glass a dark brown. He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“No, but we could talk. Now we can't, because you only hang out with Ryder.”

“Whoa, let's not start this, okay? Why do you have to keep bringing it up? I'm here right now, aren't I?”

Charlie sat up and glared at him. “Well, I'm a little pissed off that you abandoned your friends for this new guy. He's not like us, Andrew.”

“What the hell do you mean, friends? Who else is pissed off?”

“Sarah. And Andrea.”

Andrew pushed off the chair and moved closer, arms crossed. “That's funny, because Sarah hasn't mentioned anything about it, and when Andrea does, it's just to tell me you're pissed off. My problems with Andrea have nothing to do with Ryder.”

“There's something wrong with him, Andy, I know it! Do you know who I saw him talking to a few weeks ago? Joshua. Joshua Grayson.”

“Yeah? So what if he talked to him. He's got a right to talk to anyone he wants to,” Andrew countered. He had a bad feeling about this Joshua talk.

“Come on, you know Josh. Besides, I saw them. And they looked like they were more than a little friendly, if you know what I mean.”

“What are you getting at, Charlie?” It wasn't a question so much as a demand that he just get to the point.

“Josh is a fag. Who else but another fag would talk to him?”

Andrew stared at his friend in disbelief, and he voiced it. “I can't believe you. So what if he talks to Josh. Ryder's a nice guy, and he can talk to whomever he wants. That doesn't make him gay.”