Ezra

The next few months passed in a blur of quizzes, exams, and studying-- or, at least, those were the memories that my brain decided were most important. There were a few smaller memories of hanging out with Mark and Tommy in there, and even a couple of Josh’s football games, but not much else.

Soon enough, the spring break came up, and I was ready to head home once again.

Josh was frowning at his computer as I packed, muttering to himself, until I took the initiative to head over and close it halfway for him.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, because the lines on his face had deepened in the past couple of weeks, and the dark circles under his eyes were almost cartoonishly exaggerated.

He frowned at me now. “Nothing.”

“Something’s wrong,” I concluded.

He sighed. “I was just thinking about things. Nothing important.”

“What kind of things?” I pushed his hair off of his forehead, out of his eyes. “You look like shit.”

“Oh, do I? I hadn’t noticed.” I heard a tone in his voice that I assumed was meant to be sarcasm, but he was either unfamiliar with it, out of practise, or too tired to properly implement it, because the statement just came out tired.

I sighed heavily. “Josh. What’s on your mind? Maybe I can help.”

“It’s nothing you can fix.”

“Oh. Well… you should start packing for break, right? Since you’re allowed home for this one?”

“Probably,” he agreed, a little too quietly for me to be completely comfortable with his answer, but I didn’t press.

“Josh, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He paused, then sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Just… lost, I guess. I seriously need to go home, it’ll be good for me.”

“Okay.” I frowned, though, taking my hand off of his forehead.

“You still look concerned,” he noted.

I shook my head. “It’s nothing. I’m just… well, I’m a big brother. I worry.”

“Worry? About who?”

I shrugged. “About the people I care about. And… I guess that includes you now.”

“Oh.” He was silent for a moment. “Um, thanks for worrying. I guess. It… well, I don’t worry enough.”

“Of course. It’s not like I can help it.”

He laughed, just a little, at that. “You’re so strange, Ezra. Nothing like I expected.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, incredulous.

He laughed, and pulled me into a hug. “I dunno. I’m glad you’re here, though, Ez.”

“‘Ez’?”

“I don’t know. I felt like giving you a nickname.” His tone made it sound like he was confessing something. “I mean, you call me Josh, right?” he asked, as though his statement needed to be reasoned out.

“I guess.” I returned his hug. “I like it, by the way. No one’s really called me by a nickname. Ever. It’s nice.”

“Oh. Well, Ez, I’m… honestly, kind of honoured to be the first, then.” He gave me a quick squeeze and let me go. “You should finish getting packed. Your family’s going to be here soon, aren’t they?”

“Yeah.”

There was a moment of silence, where I didn’t move, though I wasn’t looking at Josh.

I suddenly looked back at him, making up my mind on something. “Do you want to meet them, maybe?”

-+-+-+-+-+-

“Ezra!” My little sister Illa came running up to me, wrapping her arms around my waist in a big hug.

I laughed, stumbling backwards a few steps. “There’s the imp! Where’s the munchkin, to go with her?”

As David joined Illa, my mother chided gently, “Ezra, I’ve told you a million times to stop calling them that.”

“They don’t mind,” I argued, for about the million and first time. I looked to the twins, affectionately tweaking one ear on each of their heads. “Do you, guys?”

David laughed, and Illa soon followed, as they both let go and swatted at my hands.

“Lively,” Josh commented quietly from behind me. He rested a hand on my shoulder. “I’ve never really had little siblings.”

“You don’t want them,” I assured him quietly. “They’re a pain.”

“Who’s this, Ezra?” my mom asked me, at that. “I don’t believe I’ve met this young gentleman before.”

“Ah. This is--”

He interrupted me, extending a hand to my mother, which she shook, as he said, “I’m Joshua Preston. I’m Ezra’s roommate.”

“Oh, I’m glad he’s got a roommate this year,” my mother admitted with a sigh. “He always seemed to get so distant when he was alone… a part of me wonders whether the loss of his father is still affecting him.”

I frowned. “Mom, that’s personal. And I haven’t thought about it in years. I’m just… elsewhere. Fantasising.”

“I wonder, what about?” Josh asked. “You do get that daydream-y look on your face… and I have another question for you, before you leave.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re wearing my-- the letterman. What’s with the hoodie, too?”

“Oh, it’s-- it’s for you.” I pushed it into his arms. “Eye for an eye, jacket for a jacket, I guess. I used to wear it a lot, back when I was younger, but I don’t wear it much anymore, and it seemed like it might be your style.”

He looked over it for a moment, then looked back to me with a soft smile. “Thanks, Ez.”

“You’re welcome,” I answered honestly. “But, uh, I have to get going, so… I’ll see you after the break, yeah?”

“Definitely.”

I headed towards my family’s car, and turned back to wave at Josh. He held the jacket over his heart tightly, waving back, and I felt an odd fluttering in my stomach. Huh. Did I swallow a moth or something?

My mother and siblings had already gotten into the car, so I climbed in after them, sitting in the passenger’s seat and buckling in.

“I didn’t expect you to have a boyfriend,” my mom commented, completely out of the blue.

If I’d been drinking something, I would have spit it out. “He’s not-- we’re not-- we’re roommates. He’s my roommate.”

“Are you sure? I was sure I caught something about trading jackets. And he seemed awfully comfortable around you…” She frowned at the road in front of her, and it wasn’t lost on me that a lot of the expressions that I was used to on someone’s face were some form of a frown.

“He’s just my roommate. We’re friends, and his jacket fit better on me than it did on him, so he said I could have it. It doesn’t mean anything.” I recalled what he’d said. ‘It’s just a status symbol.’

“If you say so, Ezra. Shame. He seemed very sweet. I wouldn’t have minded a sweet son in law.”

I nearly shrieked. “Mom! I’m not even in senior year yet!”

“I’m just saying, Ezra, mothers think about these things all the time. We want what’s best for you.” She honked the horn loudly, trying to get a very slow car to either go faster or let her pass.

“‘You’ as in the child, or ‘you’ as in me?” I asked, for clarification.

“First one,” she replied offhandedly. “We as mothers want you to be happy.”

“That’s a lovely sentiment,” I agreed, “but I’m pretty happy as I am right now-- single and definitely not dating my roommate.”

“You’re sounding awfully suspicious,” she teased, and I sighed.

“We wouldn’t work out anyway,” I argued. “We’re too different, him and me. He’s Josh Preston, local heartthrob-- gag me with a spoon-- and star footballer. I’m Ezra Abramov. I’m an afterthought in this. It’s his story-- he’ll save the day and get the girl, and I’ll just be a running gag for the whole thing. A visual joke. ‘Oh, look at the stereotype goth kid, with his elaborate makeup and black-and-purple sweater. Ha ha.”

My mother frowned. “Ezra, you’re worth more than you think. You know that?”

I frowned as well, out the window. “I thought I knew that. And then I decided that I didn’t know.”