“Well, probably because I always tell her about you, well… I mean us,obviously. She knows how much you make me laugh, and when you hold my hand, it makes me feel better.” My cheeks are burning. I feel silly admitting all of that to him, but he just tilts his head to the side, listening like he’s learning something new and interesting with every word.
We spent the entire day watching cartoons, building blanket forts, and playing with all the toys from my toy box.
“Are these walkie-talkies?!” Zander’s face lights up with excitement as he twists dials and pushes buttons. “Hello? 1...2…Over.” The radio in his other hand echoes his words as he jumps to his feet. “Do you know what this means?!”
“Umm…” He puts them down and grabs me by the shoulders; his eyes are wide and wild, full of wonder.
“It means we can talk to each other even when we aren’t together.”This might just be the best day of my life.
Mom comes in and tells us it’s time to brush our teeth and change into our pyjamas. If she notices the mess in my room, she doesn’t say anything; she just offers us both a little gift bag. It’s not my birthday, and it’s definitely not Christmas, but I’ll never turn down a gift.
“I hope you’ve both had an amazing day. I’m so glad you have each other. Sweet dreams and sleep well.” We both say goodnight and give her our best smiles as she leaves the room, closing the door behind her. Zander is staring down at the bag in his hands, the sadness in his eyes confuses me.Gifts usually make everyone happy, right?He looks over at the bag in my hands, waiting for me to open mine first.
“Let’s open them together?” He gulps loudly, like he’s nervous about what’s inside, but nods his head anyway. “1…2…3…OPEN!”
We pull apart the bags at the same time and peek inside. Folded neatly, there’s a set of new pyjamas, matching, with Snorlax, the sleepy Pokémon on the front. Zander snorts out alaugh and holds them against his body when something drops to the floor. I unfold my own, feeling something hard in the middle.
“No… Way…” He says, picking up a foil package from the floor. I shake my own pj’s to free the bundle nestled inside. I almost squeal with joy at the sight of thenewestset of Pokémon cards Mom had hidden inside. Zander grabs my hand and pulls us both down onto the air-bed, bouncing a few times as we land. She definitelyisthe coolest ever.
After tearing through our packs, we strip out of our day clothes, eager to get into our matching sleepwear, when I notice something dark wrapping around Zander’s upper arm. At first, it looks like shadows, until I see more and more scattered down his side and across his stomach.
“Why have you got bruises, like, everywhere?” I ask, my stomach tightening while I wait for his answer. The excitement falls from his face instantly, his body freezing at my words. “What happened?”
“What? Nothing happened. It’s from the other day, y’know, with Harry.” He’s lying. Harry didn’t get the chance to put a single finger on him, a fact I remember because of how proud I was to have such a badass best friend.
“But–”
“It’s nothing, they don’t hurt, so let’s just forget about it… Please?” I don’t know how he expects me to forget it, but for tonight, I’ll try. I don’t want him to leave. Ineverwant him to leave.
Zander goes quiet and settles into the makeshift bed, thumbing through his cards over and over. He studies each one in awe, before starting back at the beginning.
“Night, Zander,” I force myself to say something, but that's all I’ve got at the moment.
“Night, Jules.” I flick off the lamp and settle on my back, but I know I won’t sleep easily tonight. I toss and turn for what feels like forever, listening to the quiet of the room. The feeling of something warm slides across my palm and between my fingers. I instantly recognise it as the comfort of my best friend’s hand resting in mine.
“I’m okay, Jules. This has been the best day of my life,” he whispers, giving one gentle squeeze. I squeeze back, swallowing down the tears, as the images of his bruised body rise to the surface.
“You’re my best friend, Zan.”
He responds with a simple, yet meaningful – “Always.”
Chapter Four
Zander
Age 11
“Five minutes, guys!” That’s our cue to move our asses and pull our weight. Jules looks at me from the other end of the sofa. I know what he’s about to ask; it’s the same every week.
“You pour the drinks, and I’ll set the table?” He suggests. I laugh at him and his ridiculous hatred of making the drinks. I don’t get it at all, but he swears it’s the worst job. Theresa–I’ll never get used to calling her that–pops her head around the door into the living room, checking we heard. “Coming, Mom.” Switching off the TV and moving off the sofa, he uses my knee to push himself up, digging his delicate, but extremely bony fingers into either side of my kneecap.
“Careful, you’ll be pouring the drinksandsetting the table if I'm injured…”
“Give over, you’ve had wor–”
His face pales, and his eyes widen when he realises what he was about to say, and the implications behind it. “Zan… I didn’t–”
“It’s good,” I dismiss his comment with a wave of my hand, “you can definitely pour the drinks, though,” I joke, trying to ease the guilt written all over his face.
