Page 54 of The Wicker King

BLUEBERRY

The next day August woke up to his doorbell ringing. That hadn’t happened in … years. Even the mailman just knocked and left packages on the doorstep. August crept downstairs suspiciously and peered through the keyhole. To his surprise, Alex was standing on his doorstep. He barely saw her outside of school, much less at his actual house. He opened the door and leaned against the frame.

“Hey … what are you doing here?”

Alex was holding a box and looked uncomfortable. She pushed the box into his arms and flipped the top open. “I made you some muffins,” she blurted.

“Thank you … It’s not my birthday?” He picked one up and smelled it. They had to be home baked, they were still warm.

“I know we’re not really close. And that’s totally fine; this isn’t some weird bribery gift or anything. I have enough friends.” Alex wrung her hands. “I just wanted to make something for you that you would like? You don’t seem very … I mean, it’s not my place to say anything about it or criticize you … I know I’m hardly perfect, and I just … I … don’t know what’s going on in your life, but you don’t seem … okay? And I just wanted you to know that if you ever ever ever need anything, you can come to me about it.”

“Wow … Thank you,” August said quietly, holding the box a bit closer.

“Okay, I’m going to walk away now. This is probably the most awkward thing I’ve ever done.”

August took a bite of one of the muffins as he watched her scamper down his front walk. They were delicious. Perfect in every way. “Hey, Alex?” She turned around. “You’re a true MVP.”

Alex grinned.

GOLD

August knocked on Rina’s apartment door. She opened it only halfway and stood in the entrance, blocking him from coming inside.

She looked radiant. Her hair was piled on her head in a messy nest. She was wearing boxers and a frumpy gray sweatshirt. Her lips were painted brilliant red.

“Hey,” she said curtly before he could say anything. “I’ve made a decision.”

August rocked back on his heels and put his heavy backpack on the floor. “Okay. What is it?”

Rina drummed her nails against the wooden frame of the doorway. “I’m not going to let you guys come here anymore. I’m just helping to make a space for the both of you to think that all of this is okay. I don’t want to be an enabler. It’s not fair. You need to get him help, August. You can’t come back here until you get him help.”

August swallowed hard and looked down at his shoes.

“It doesn’t make you a bad friend,” she said softly. “It doesn’t mean you love him less. It doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

Rina took his hand and squeezed it, then tugged him close and let him bury his face in the curve of her neck. August snaked his arms around her waist and held her tight for as long as he could. Then he picked up his backpack and swung it onto his shoulders.

“We’ll come back. I promise.” August’s voice cracked. “When we see each other again, things will be different.”

Rina touched his cheek and guided his head down so they were level. Then she kissed him gently on the forehead. “They had better.”

BRICK

August jolted awake with a gasp.

“Dude. Picture day.” The kid sitting behind him stopped flicking the back of his neck once he saw that August wasn’t asleep anymore. “We all have to go to the gym—they just announced it on the intercom. Why aren’t you dressed in nice clothes?”

August looked around. The kid was right. Pretty much everyone was in dress shirts and ties, and the girls were in dresses. He looked down at his stretched-out shirt. With all the commotion lately, he’d completely forgotten about picture day. It was just so irrelevant in the grand scheme of things that it had barely even crossed his mind that it would be around this time of year.

There was nothing to be done about it now. So August just sighed and sullenly followed the rest of his classmates down the hall and into the gym. Roger and Peter quickly spotted him and made their way through the crowd.

“Is that the best you could do?” Peter said derisively, looking at August’s clothes.

“I forgot. I’ve been busy,” August replied, pulling at his shirt. He was a little embarrassed. Peter smacked his hand away and began fiddling with August’s hair.

“Don’t pull on your shirt. You’re making it worse. You’re lucky you have a good haircut, at least.” Peter fussed with him, scowling. August was so exhausted that he just let it happen.

Roger rummaged around in his backpack a bit. “I brought you some samples. Antianxiety meds, sleeping pills, what do you want?”