Another story beat.
“How was the rest of the reception?”
“It was…it was nice. Your brother seemed very happy. And Christina’s family is very nice, too.”
Gideon shuffled his mug around the coffee table, watching it leave a ring of steam and condensation in its path.
“Did Noah say anything about me leaving?” He couldn’t believe he was using his mom like this, but hell if he was going to extend an olive branch to Noah. Just because he was older didn’t mean he was wiser. It didn’t mean he knew anything.
“No. I told him you texted me saying you weren’t feeling well, and he understood. He was too busy drinking and carousing with Christina’s family.” Gideon’s chest constricted with the same old stress. “It was his wedding. He was having a good time.”
“I know.” He could hear her eye roll over the phone. “Gideon, I have to be honest. It seems strange that you felt so sick that you had to leave in such a hurry. Some of my friends asked me how it went, and I had to tell them that my son left his brother’s wedding early. It wasn’t like you, Gideon.” Suddenly the conversation turned away from familiar topics. It was no longer about the disaster that was Noah. It was about Gideon.
“Is everything okay?” His mom asked, that familiar concern in her voice. Was she ever not concerned? “You’ve been acting strange, and remember, you can talk to me about things.”
“What do you mean?” Gideon went over his behavior of late. Save for the wedding incident, it was in line with previous Gideon experiences. He did not break story continuity.
“Well, the wedding, for one.”
“I told you I was sick!”
“Don’t raise your voice.” Even though he was twenty, her reprimanding tone still shut him up. “And we haven’t talked as frequently. I’m lucky if I can get a hold of you once a week now. And just now. You never raise your voice like that.”
“I just have a lot going on.”No no no.This was the wrong kind of lie. It was vague. It threw up red flags.
“Are you on drugs?” She asked, completely serious.
“No!”
“I worry. You hear these stories about good kids who go away to college and become drug addicts or die of alcohol poisoning or get hazed in their fraternity.”
“I’m not in a fraternity, and I’m not on drugs. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“I know I don’t, but I still do.”
Gideon went to the window and drew the blinds. The glare off the snow made the sun unbearable. His apartment was now dark like a vampire’s lair.
He composed himself and remained in character. “Mom, it’s been a tough quarter. With Beth and all the drama with Noah, and having a heavy load of classes— I mean, these professors are tough—it was a lot.”
The beats may have changed, but the story kept on rolling.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. We all go through rough patches. You’ll make it through. I have full faith in you.”
“Thanks, Mom.” He appreciated her supportive words, even if he still heard worry in her voice.
“And how is your roommate situation? Did you find a new one yet? Hopefully, this one is more dependable.”
“I hope so, too,” he said. Because the story kept on rolling.
Φ
That night, Gideon and Seth shot some hoops at the gym. Seth had picked up his game in the past few weeks. Usually Gideon played with his friend to feel better about his skills, but he was getting schooled by a guy who didn’t eat half the foods in existence.
“Damn, have you been practicing with Delia or something?” He asked after Seth blocked his shot.
Gideon dribbled around him. Or he tried. Seth stole the ball.
“You are like Jewish LeBron.”
