😴
“He's hogging the couch,” One of the twins condemns, which makes the man snort.
“Yes, and out of all mornings this one is the first one you just have to spend outside your room, ” The man teases. His smile falters then widens when he spots Kevin. “Oh, hey! You’re awake! Breakfast is almost done.”
Kevin stares at him. Blinks. The two images meld with each other and create a third, more familiar one. One with a name.
He stumbles up and wavers more than walks his way to the kitchen island. The apartment-because that is definitely where he is-to the point that walking around in the state he is in feels dangerous. Behind the couch, a door leads to a bathroom with very little lighting and besides it another door is shut, with a notebook page taped to it angrily telling potential visitors to ‘FUCK OFF’. At some point between getting up and now, the twins have rushed ahead and sat on two of the three seats available, leaving the empty one between them. Kevin takes his place and immediately feels as if he is being flanked by 6’5 backliners, instead of ten year olds wearing cat pajamas.
“Woah, you guys are mighty friendly for a Sunday morning,” The man says, putting a bowl in front of each boy without being asked to. The boy to his left-Aaron. No, Andrew. No, definitely Aaron, probably, maybe-picks up a colorful box from the counter and starts pouring cereal for himself without so much as an acknowledgement. “I should be having guests more over if you’re going to be this sociable around them.”
Is that what Kevin is? A guest? He can’t remember. The boy who is most likely, possibly Aaron passes the box to what in turn must be Andrew across Kevin like he isn’t actually there.
“Hi, uh,” Woah, Kevin’s mouth is dry. And it tastes really bad. He wonders if the school has any rules against borrowing a toothbrush from a student. “It’s Nicholas, right?”
They have met a handful of times. Nicholas usually comes inside to collect the twins from practice and carries their bags to the car. In their second meeting, Nicky came into practice with the school’s guidelines in book form and threw it at Kevin’s head after he told him cousins need to be cleared for pickup beforehand, so the breakfast is more than a little surprising.
So is the earnest smile the man shoots Kevin’s way. “Again, just Nicky is fine, Coach.”
Again? Kevin cannot remember having this conversation before, but weirdly he gets hit with the memory of an elevator with blinking lights and the two of them standing across from each other. He doesn’t think there’s one at the school, though.
He clears his throat. “Right, uh, Nicky. I don’t really-I mean-How am I-where am I here?”
