Kieren and I ate our sandwiches in his bedroom. Nothing could beat fueling our brains with the wondrous bounty Mrs. Freeman produced for us. I chomped away, delighted by every bite. On the other hand, Kieren sat in front of his computer and read from the exact science fair article I read earlier in my room. He, too, was bored by the many variations of creating a makeshift volcano. Meanwhile, I sat on his bean bag chair in the corner of the room. I was still a little nervous, and Kieren noticed from the few glancing glimpses he cast upon me. Sitting and taking tiny bites out of my sandwich, I relished over that delicious marvel of cheese and bread. And then it was gone. And I was sad. But before setting my empty plate on top of his, I spied something in the corner. A little yellow friend was just sitting there, asking to be played with. It was a stuffed lion, a cute little thing. What was it doing here? No matter. Played with, it shall be. As I was messing around with the stuffed toy, I looked at all the group photos, magazine appearances, trophies, and anime figurines… They were all displayed in a tall, transparent case. Hm… If my parents were to find out this commoner was into such things, a professional gamer before moving to my school... They would not have favored that so much.  

“Why Kieren the Game Blogger?” It was a simple question, a warm-up. This way, I could navigate to a far tougher question. One problem, though….

“Um, what do you mean?” He was stuck, looking at me with such puzzlement. This really should not have been as tough as he made it seem. 

“Why the name?”

“What name?” 

“Your name! Does it mean you blog about anything and everything games? If so, that would technically make you Kieren, The Gaming Journalist.” 

“I came up with the name when I was about nine. I had a blog page where I uploaded gameplay and commentary videos where I talked about various videogames. It made sense to me, then. I was a blogger and a gamer, a game blogger. But if I had to go back in time, I definitely would have chosen something cooler to call myself. By the time I took everything professionally, it was too late, though. The name stuck. And although it’s not the most intimidating name you’d see on a server, my skills were enough to make it intimidate people.” 

“Do you still blog?” 

“Not anymore. Well, I’m taking a break for now…. I dunno when I’ll get back to it, honestly...” 

“Good, because gaming journalism has been dead for years!” 

It was a bold move that I felt would reassure him. He seemed to have stepped away from that world and was unaware of current events. I could not blame him. That world had been going downhill like I said. Well, I was not really the foremost expert myself. Most of the news I got about games was just that, news. I rarely played what was popular or did anything like what he was talking about. At best, I was on the fringes of that world, somewhere between a hobbyist and a quiet observer. I would say, though… Games were fun to watch… However, to my horror, shortly after spotting a massive stack of Gamer Informer magazines in his closet, I came to regret saying such a thing. Not to mention, the top of his monitor was a lineup of gaming news sites as his bookmarks. Well, now I have stepped in it. Was that the expression? I had heard Max say that all the time… Either way, I did not know if he felt neutrally offended or entirely offended by my statement. Even worse, was he about to be offended by what I was about to say next? 

“The most recommended project is a volcano, which is lame. Do you have any other ideas?” Kieren asked. I felt like he was deflecting. Yeah, we had this project, but we were having an entirely different conversation. So, in solemn defiant protest, I refused to respond. Kieren turned in his swiveling gaming chair to lock eyes with me. What was he doing? That was too intense. My eyes fell to the floor as my head hung low. Even mustering the energy to play with his stuffed lion felt too bothersome. “Know-all?” He used that dumb name again before scooting his chair closer to me. His presence now loomed over me. I locked eyes with him again, but this time I could feel that I was fueled by something else besides curiosity. 

“I found out something. Something about you. It took only a few seconds to piece together, but it makes sense now.” It was a heavy conversation. I was immediately regretting going down this path. Why was I so eager to share this with him? Would this not destroy our friendship? Was he that kind of guy? Oh… He was looking at me. I already did this, so I might as well finish it. “The way you acted after the field trip and during class. What today marks. Your family’s surname. The fact that....” I hesitated to say the name. There was something unreal about everything before. And now, this felt far more real than any test or argument. As he looked at me with those widening eyes, I knew my window of friendship was slowly closing. Just what was I thinking? Just what compelled me to throw away what little bit of company I had? I was so stupid. I was so bold. And I just did not know when to stop. “Jeroham,” escaped my lips, and I could see Kieren shattering before me. It looked like I had shot him. “The fact that Jeroham had a wife and two children before he disappeared.” It was so hard. Why was this hard? I had already taken the leap. My chest felt like it was on fire, like I was being ripped apart. So, I tried to stifle the flames, shifting, deeply breathing to prepare for the rest of my words to flow out. “Kieren, your dad is Jeroham Freeman. Your dad is the professor who disappeared ten years ago.” I involuntarily gasped after spewing out that sentence. It was shocking. The reveal was groundbreaking. I had uncovered a family secret as dark as the Middle Ages. I felt like Sherlock or a hardy boy. I… Kieren blinked twice, which I assume meant he was trying to process everything. I know, Kieren. I know. It was something you were trying to hide and get past but look at this place. You keep everything in boxes. You do not throw out the memories of your past. You… You adorn your walls with these victories to serve as a reminder of who you were. This was not home, no matter how much you tried to hide and smile it away. This was a mausoleum to who you were. And… 

The silence ensued between us. In that time, my wild thoughts brewed. I kept the conversation going in my head, trying desperately to sound like those heroes I had read about in those books. It was dramatic, I admit. However, they were all things he needed to hear, from a friend. Too bad most of my best words were trapped in my head, for I was far too timid to utter a single word. Kieren would eventually break the awkward silence, “Ten years of nobody knowing the truth, yet it took you only a day to find out,” he chuckled to the side. I believe if I could actually see his eyes, because he was hiding his face from me with the angle of his swiveling seat alone, I assume I would have seen how dead his eyes had become. He seemingly tried to make some light out of the situation, putting on a brave face and laughing. “Everything you said was right, and I can tell that was hard for you to tell me. That would be too big a discovery for anyone to hold in simply.” Kieren further reassured me by gently placing his hand on my shoulder, which I gravitated towards. Who told him he could touch me? “No matter how hard I tried to avoid the subject back in class, I know there’s no running away from it now.” 

Respectfully, I slowly picked his hand off my shoulder. I get that he was hurting, but come on, man, personal space. Boundaries… Had he not heard of such a thing? Did America not have that? Still, “I just happen to put two-and-two together,” I sincerely reached out to him verbally, “and it led me to something I didn’t mean to learn. I’m sorry,” and I apologized. 

Again he plopped another hand on my other shoulder. At this point, I just gave up. He rubbed my shoulder while saying, “I’m not mad. You don’t even have to apologize. Just don’t tell anyone I’m the son of the professor who went psycho or something and disappeared.” 

He said something interesting that I had not read or heard about. My curiosity piqued, and my mouth moved faster than my reasoning. “Went psycho or something? You don’t know what happened?” 

“No,” he humored me, taking his hand off my shoulder and leaning back in his seat. Thank God. It was bad enough that we were talking about this. I did not want to add punching him in the face to this already tense scene. “When it all happened, I was only four years old. Keziah was two. Nobody told us anything, not even to this day. We just overheard a lot of rumors on TV and the Internet. We had no idea what or who to believe in.” 

My eyes fell to the carpet, and silence ensued once more as I tried so hard not to imagine what that must have felt like. Or what ill thought might have been roaming around Kieren and Keziah’s heads at those ages. 

Again, Kieren breaks the silence once more by scooting back in front of his computer. “Alright, let’s focus on this project.” Huh? “We only have two days, so let’s make the best of it,” he said, switching over to an optimistic tone. Come on, man, what are you doing? As nothing had just happened, he pretended nothing was going on. He was there just scrolling through articles. The sound of his mouse clicking was the only thing that permeated the room. Was he for real? Just a moment ago, the air had been sucked out of the room. I myself felt sick to my stomach. I had gone through so much pain and hardship, risking my very friendship with a guy that I… well… he was nice; I would not say like, but you know… He was… Either way, we were having a moment, and all he wanted to do was sit behind a computer screen?  

Feeling queasy and a little pissed, I stood up and softly set his stuffed lion onto the bean bag chair. “I’m sorry, but it feels like I overstepped a major boundary.” Maybe he would get the hint, you know? Maybe there would be a bit more of a reaction. I needed to know that we were experiencing the same thing emotionally and that it was not just me being hysterical like so many guys would say. It meant a lot to me that he was emotionally there, present, and vulnerable, just as I was.

“No, no, it’s cool,” this jerk fanned it off as if it was nothing. “If anything, I’m glad you said something. I don’t want anyone to keep something that big,” Kieren chuckled again. How? “It’s kinda funny how fast you put everything together. No one in the past decade has done so, despite all the clues you pointed out.” How was he so chipper about this? For God's sake, man, I just invaded your personal truth! Get mad! 

“Even so, I still feel like I did something wrong,” it was just too much. This guy was all over the place. I had enough. I felt drained. Was it not really that big of a deal? It had to be. He had to be the one that was messed up in the head, not me. “I-I’m going home. We can work on the project later if you want to.” Furious yet masking my feelings, I grabbed my sweater off his bed before approaching the door. 

“Okay,” he was so freaking nice. I wanted to smack him. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Whale-I-Sheee-You-Tum-Arrrrr-OH… This guy… I could not even with this guy. What was wrong with him? 

“Yeah, you too...” Keeping my composure, I cracked the door open but did not take any steps. Leaving Kieren in his room just after the conversation we had made me feel even more queasier. It would be like abandoning him, right? Should I leave him with any parting words? A kiss on the cheek, perhaps? I was the one who brought up his dad. Was that right for me to do so? Yet, I was the one leaving him with memories he clearly did not want to revisit. Judging from when he stormed out of the classroom earlier today, it must have been a terrible pain. Maybe he was just putting up a front like I did when it came to representing my family.  

“I may be overstepping my boundaries again, but if you need someone to talk to—” 

“Don’t worry about me,” this jerk interrupted me with a smile. With a smile… Oh my God, could he not be so reassuring and nice? Just one tear, one slip up of anger, that was all I was asking for. And yet what I got was, “You just go on ahead.”

Anger was shooting out of my eyeballs, but would he have known the difference? No. Why? Because he was too busy with that computer screen. No wonder my parents hated gamers, specifically. Still, I hesitantly slipped through the door and slowly closed it behind me. “Take care,” was all I could say before closing the door. I really hope he was ok.