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“Oh, Maddison. We’re doing good, better now that you have called. Your dad just left for a business trip but he’d be delighted you called. How are you, dear? We miss you terribly. Your sister’s been asking about you too.”
Maddison’s grip tightened on the phone. Call more often, Maddison, he mentally chided himself. “I miss you guys too. I’m doing good. Just about to finish another piece.”
“That’s wonderful, Maddison. You must have done a lot more paintings now that we’re not there to bother you. We can’t wait to see them.”
“I’ll send you some pictures, mom."
The conversation went longer than Maddison planned, but he did not mind at all because he missed her. The guilt grew heavier. Maddison felt like crying, and even more when his mom mentioned Sam.
“He had dinner with us last night. I invited him over because his parents are away for a work trip for the week. Can’t believe that boy grew taller again. I think he is almost as tall as you.”
“I doubt it, mom,” Maddison said, voice small.
“Sam misses you too, dear. He said you rarely talk these days. You’re so busy you can’t make time for your best friend?”
He tried his best to talk over the lump forming in his throat and blocking his airways. Sam was lying. They did not rarely talk these days because they never talk at all. “He was busy as well with volleyball, mom, being the captain and all.”
“Oh, yes. He did mention that. That kid, he has come a long way now...”
His mom blabbered on and on about Sam, which she usually did, because he and Sam could have switched places and their parents would never notice. Sam’s parents doted more on Maddison instead of Sam and vice versa. He let his mother talk until everything got too much. He didn’t need to know about how Sam was doing well and how successful he was and how the university reps were scouting for him. He didn’t need to know anything about him at all.
“Mom,” he said when his mother began wondering out loud why Sam hadn’t brought any girl home just yet since that pretty girl last year. He didn’t really need to know. “I have to go now, mom. I have to meet my club mates in a few for a meeting.”
It was Saturday and the art club only met every school day. But he needed to stop hearing about his best friend.
“Okay, Maddison. Call us again when you’re not busy, alright dear? And call Sam too. I know something happened between the two of you but don’t let it be your fall out. You two are such great friends.”
He pressed his palm against his eye, hard. “Sure, mom. Say hi to dad for me.”
“Take care, dear. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
He hung up, tossed his phone to the foot of his bed and groaned, bumping his head on his window as he fell a little to his side. He welcomed the tiny pain on his temple, distracting him enough so he wouldn’t cry. Must Sam lie to his parents to make them believe they were okay? The last time they talked in person was the end of the previous school year, Maddison’s confession. And he never received any text or call from Sam after he ignored him. He wasn’t planning on communicating with him either, because what was the purpose of transferring if he was just going to talk to him after? His main goal was to extinguish any sort of feelings he had for his best friend and he had not even achieved it yet, so why add fuel to the fire once again? Their friendship was better off crumbling instead of it blooming again but suffering because Maddison couldn’t keep his emotions to himself.
--
“Hey, hey, any souvenirs you guys want me to get for you?” Tan loudly asked as he sat beside Richard, the contents on his tray jumping the tiniest bit as he slammed it on their table at the cafeteria. His red head was bright against the bleak white cafeteria wall. Maddison looked at him in question while Richard shook his head.
“I’m okay with anything, Tan.”
“Ehh, Smith. You’re no fun. What if I bring you a wooden dick?”
“Whatever floats your boat,” Richard shrugged as he continued eating which made Tan laugh even more.
“Did you know, that idiom can mean two things? ‘Whatever makes you happy’ and ‘whatever stimulates you’, I read it in Quora once...the origin of this saying is crazy. Basically, it says there that the man is in a boat and the boat is the woman’s...”
Maddison half-listened to Tan talking as he picked on his food, the after effects of his final exams catching up to him, exhausting him out of his wits. All he wanted was to go to bed and maybe sleep for seventy-two hours to make up for the all-nighters he pulled. He was thankful that he had Tan in his little circle of...friends.
Tan Sullivan, with his eccentric red hair and quirky movements, made up for Richard’s silence. The two were sort of a package deal, like a buy one, get one free even if he didn’t ask for it. They were apparently metaphorically attached to the hips, and even though Tan didn’t have any club, he was a permanent fixture in the art club room, especially when Mr. Collins was not around. It surprised Maddison that he and Tan got along just fine. Tan made the awkward silence between Maddison and Richard unlikely to happen when he was around.
“Where are you going?”
Tan’s eyes sparkled, like they frequently did when Maddison took interest in anything he had to say. “Maldives. My parents decided they hated winter this year so we are going to the beach for the holidays.”
“That’s really nice. Take lots of pictures of the view for me please?” Maddison said.
“For reference, right? Of course.” The other boy yelled excitedly, and then he was bumping his shoulder against Richard’s. “You too? You need references too, right, Mr. Artist?”
