MATEOLucas laughs at something Kieran says, and I have to fight the urge to tell him to shut up. The pitch of his laugh is obnoxiously high, and he hasn’t stopped doing it all afternoon. The two of them have been inseparable all day because he “needs a guide” and whatever other bullshit he fed to Kieran. Apparently, the two of them had been best friends in middle school, but he really should be clued into the fact that he’s been replaced. I can’t believe I agreed to this, but regardless, I’m sat alone on the opposite side of a table to the two of them in some shitty diner waiting for my food. Kieran and Lucas already got theirs, as the owner remembered the two of them and made sure to serve his “best customers” straight away.From what I’ve picked up,

MATEOThe grandfather clock in the corner of our dining room ticks and tocks incessantly. I watch the rusted silver pendulum swing back and forth and focus on the way the cuckoo bird pops out to announce midnight, it’s mechanical whir filling up the entire room. As it pops back into the wooden structure, my dad ceases his angry pacing.He’s been wearing a path in our floor for the past ten minutes, silent ever since he came into my room. He had roused Kieran and me from our sleep and got Mum to drive him home without so much as a reason why. The two of us had exchanged a glance before he left – Kiki with one of confusion and concern, and me with a “don’t worry, I’ll tell you later,” sort of compromise.

MATEOLucas’ high-pitched whine of a laugh bounces around the walls of Kieran’s room like a helium balloon. Kieran’s actually in the next room over, but it still manages to pierce through. I grab a pillow and chuck it over my face, squeezing it against my ears in an attempt to drown him out, but then Kieran starts giggling. His laugh is exactly that – a child’s giggle. It bubbles out of him, and you can’t help but smile too.I let the pillow fall to the side and let the sound wash over me. It’s rare, these days.I’m not nearly as blind, deaf nor as naïve as he thinks I am. I know that they’re talking about m

KIERAN“Kiki!” Mateo shouts at me from across the cafeteria, making it impossible to avoid him. He’s at our usual table with the rest of our friends. Some part of me spurs me towards him before I stop in my tracks. It’s hard to see him from this distance, but he begins walking to me. As he approaches, his apologetic face becomes more evident, and I catch a flicker of hope flash across it. Lucas stands motionless beside me. We had just gotten out of the line, so we both held our trays, hovering. “Are we really going to sit with him?” Lucas murmurs, disdain plain in his voice. I glance sideways and see his eyes pinched in distrust, hatred simmering underneath.

KIERANFor about two hours now, I’ve been sitting on Mateo’s front-step, waiting for his parents to come home. Every time I hear someone walk by, my head snaps up in a wide-eyed panic, before I remember that Mateo doesn’t live here anymore. That starts the whole cycle of misery again until I distract myself with some crappy ad-filled game.I go back and forth with that and with my conversation with Lucas on Instagram – he’s trying to organise details for this weekend, and I’m being spectacularly unhelpful. Not by choice, mind you, simply because someone else will walk by and my attention will be broken once more. I think we settle on a time, and I’m pretty sure he&r