Sleep brought with it a dream for Lewis. He felt almost like an onlooker in the dream. He could see himself from outside of his own eyes. He could hear his own thoughts as he thought them, but he wasn’t really thinking them.

He was inside his apartment but things had changed. A younger Lewis walked out of the bedroom and sat down on the couch. His hair was slightly longer, he was wearing his glasses, and was dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt.

The younger, rejuvenated man seemed so relaxed; care-free. At that point in his life, Lewis did occasionally get the headaches and fell into unexpected periods of depression, but for the most part, he was an easy going young man.

Colour seemed to be missing from the scene, which was a shame. The only thing that could detract from Elizabeth’s beauty was the missing colour of her normally red, fiery hair.

She walked out of their room and into the living room. She sat down beside him on the couch and put her hands around his neck. He smiled at her and then looked back out the living room window.

“Not too shabby, eh?” Lewis suddenly remembered where the memory was from. It was their first day in the apartment. “I mean, it’s gonna take some work, yeah, but we’ll get it done. In the meantime, there’s nothing wrong with a bunch of cardboard boxes to look at, is there?”

Elizabeth smiled and laid her head down gently on his shoulder. “Not at all. Feels cozy, actually,” she joked. He smiled and closed his eyes. He was tired from carrying all the boxes. Looking back at himself, Lewis couldn’t believe things had gone so wrong.

“My mother said she was talking to your mom earlier this week,” Elizabeth remembered suddenly. Lewis moved forward a bit and looked at her. Somehow, he really doubted that was good news.

“Is that right?” he asked, relaxing back into his spot again. “I’m not sure whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” Elizabeth laughed, but she didn’t sound so sure of the answer.

“I don’t really think it’s a bad thing.”

“What were they talking about?”

“I’m not really sure,” she said, looking up at him. “My mother told me that she seemed kinda distracted. You know how they like to gossip. Odd. I suppose two widows would get along well enough, though. But yeah, my mother said your mom was awfully quiet.”

“Which isn’t like her at all.” They were both guilty of thinking it. “There must just be something on her mind. She might be missing dad or something. I think I noticed it a bit myself, too. It’s been five years.”

Elizabeth nodded softly against his chest. “So, any ideas for the apartment?” he asked her, trying to lighten the mood. She tilted her head from side to side and sat up. Elizabeth had an eye for that sort of stuff. She hopped to her feet and began pacing around the room.

“I’m not quite sure yet,” she told him, holding her hands up to her eyes to measure the walls. “I think maybe some pink paint would brighten the living room up a lot.” Lewis couldn’t help but laugh as he watched from outside of his body. That obviously never got done.

“We’ll need to take some pictures. We don’t have nearly enough. I know a great photographer. Oh, Lewis!” She spun around and threw herself back into his arms. “It’s gonna be autumn soon. The leaves turn such beautiful colours out in the country. We could go get a nice picture taken out there.”

Lewis considered this. “Sounds beautiful. An awful long way to go just for a picture, though.” Elizabeth put on her sad face. How was he supposed to fight that? When she curled her lips, tilted her head, and her eyes started to tear up, what wouldn’t he have given her? “Alright, we’ll go get our picture taken. It actually sounds pretty good.” She smiled and hugged him.

There was a sudden rush of movement as Lewis flew upright. It was the kind of dream that you would awake from in a sudden burst of fright. His heart was pounding and it took him a little while to calm himself down.

It was luckily still light out. Lewis knew he had some work to do before bed, but his head was pounding and he was so tired. He used the arm of the couch to help him stand. “That was a… vivid dream,” he said. It really had been. It wasn’t often he had such detailed or lucid dreams.

He realized that even if his head was splitting apart, his students would still expect their journals back. Without stalling any further, he moved to his bag and set the papers out on the counter. He swallowed some aspirin and the last of his pills. Once he’d finished his drink, he sat down on a stool.

Perhaps it was because of the headache or perhaps it was simply because he was tired, but he couldn’t concentrate. He tried waiting for the pills to kick in, but he didn’t have that much time. When he realized it wasn’t going to disappear fast enough, he decided to press on.

“This isn’t working,” he exclaimed, cursing occasionally in between words. He kept trying, long past eight o’clock. Eventually, focusing became easier, but the headache absolutely refused to go away.

He’d gotten through about a quarter of the journals when he gave up. There was no way he could continue in his condition. He’d quickly drive himself into his own grave.

It was then, after he’d sat back down on the couch, that he noticed the curtain. It was slightly more open than he liked it. Not even a fraction of the window was covered. It all came rushing back to him. As he’d been falling asleep, the curtain had moved. He was sure of it.

Paranoia hit him like a ton of bricks. He was on his feet and looked around frantically before another second had passed. The setting of the sun had pushed him to his wits’ end. He looked around. ‘God, how long was I sleeping?” The thought of an intruder in his home completely destroyed his feeling of security.

Once he’d regained some composure, he slowly began checking the apartment. He did it logically and cowardly. He first checked all the places which didn’t involve having his back turned. Once he knew one portion was safe, he slowly went to another. It was quite a foolish sight, but fear does odd things to grown men.

It took him just shy of fifteen minutes to check every nook and cranny of the apartment. When he was finally sure that no intruders could possibly be inside, he sat down in a corner to think.

The apartment might’ve been empty, but he was sure it hadn’t been when he’d gone to sleep. What did that mean? Had someone been hiding behind the curtain since before his mother arrived? And what had they done once he’d fallen asleep. As he thought of all this, the accusations in his mind grew worse and worse.

“Calm down, Lewis,” he told himself finally. No one could’ve gotten into his apartment without a key. There would’ve been signs. Maybe a broken door frame or some foot prints. He didn’t live in a movie, after all.

And so he thought he’d seen the curtain move ever so slightly. That didn’t mean anything. He’d thought the same of the shower curtain numerous times. And he thought someone had moved it from where he liked it. Perhaps, he thought, his mother had done it. She was a perfectionist, after all.

The more and more he thought about it all, the sillier it seemed. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten quite so upset over such a small thing. Nonetheless, he didn’t dare turn any of the lights off until he was absolutely ready for bed.

All the locks were checked with twice as much attention. Every dark closet or shadowy corner was checked. Lewis brushed his teeth and walked quite reluctantly into his room. It was because he was so paranoid that his mother worried about him in the first place, which was ironic.

He crawled into bed. On that night, however, it unfortunately offered him no familiar sense of security.

***

“Yeah, it’s Lewis Norton,” he spoke into the phone. “I know it’s extremely late notice, but I can’t make it in today. You’ll need to find a substitute for my classes.” The secretary chastised him for what must’ve been two minutes before hanging up. Throughout the entire lecture, Lewis had been holding his head.

“Three aspirin,” he said aloud to himself after he’d hung up. “This thing just won’t go away.” He sat down on the couch and picked up the empty medication bottle. The painkillers weren’t cutting it anymore and he needed a refill on his medication anyway. He couldn’t very well go to work in his state.

He hated having the constant headaches. Maybe being a teacher wasn’t the best choice in the world, he joked. But it was hard to laugh. He felt depressed in the mornings and now depressed in the nights. He was coming to a slow and sad realization. A little late to get out of the profession, though.

As much as he despised taking the medication – both because it seemed to dull his personality and because it was admitting to something untrue – it helped so much with the headaches.

Lewis had already grabbed his coat from the hall closet when the knock came at the door. If it had come ten seconds later, he would’ve already been out in the hallway. He was rubbing his forehead as he opened the green door. Kyle stood on the other side, a huge smile on his face.

“Whoa, man. What’s up?” He went from carefree to being filled with concern in about half a second. “Migraine?” Lewis nodded. Truthfully, Kyle wasn’t exactly the person he’d been hoping to run into. “Where were you going?”

“Off to the hospital. I need to get a refill.”

Kyle nodded. “I’ll come with you. You don’t look like you’re having a terribly easy time. Just in case it gets worse on the way.” Lewis nodded again. Maybe the conversation could take away from the headache. He could keep him company in doctor Libman’s waiting room too.

The fresh air did Lewis a world of good. Not only did it calm the throbbing in his head, but it actually cheered him up a bit. Being outside in the sun always made the gloom fade. Kyle didn’t offer to drive – he never did – but that was fine. The company actually did do him some good.

As they were stuck in traffic, Lewis asked, “So, what’s up, Kyle? Did you need a ride or something?” It took Kyle a while to answer. At first Lewis thought maybe he hadn’t heard the question. But after thirty seconds, it became apparent that he was contemplating the answer.

“Not really,” he said, still peering out the window. “I didn’t really have anywhere to go today, so I figured I’d catch you before work again.” It was odd that Kyle hadn’t been to work in the past few days. Odder still was that he was so quiet. Lewis thought that perhaps something was on his mind.

“Ah.” A long, uneasy silence passed as the car inched slowly along. They passed green lights and stopped at red ones. People walked by them on the sidewalk, completely oblivious to the thick, awkward quietness.

“Kyle,” Lewis began, “is there something going on? Family issues or something?”

Tilting his head side to side, Kyle thought about it. “Nah. It’s not really something I feel like talking about. I’ve just been thinking about an ex-girlfriend of mine lately.”

“Tell me about it,” Lewis said. He was actually expressing his understanding more than making a request, but that wasn’t apparent to Kyle. The other man sighed and turned from the window.

“It’s just kinda shocking when a relationship ends so suddenly, you know? I really didn’t see it coming. And it’s been a while, too, mate. It’s really just sinking in now. We went so good together.” In all the years they’d known each other, Kyle hadn’t talked about his personal life much.

“It’s not easy,” Lewis said, patting him on the shoulder. Kyle nodded his agreement, but noticed how close they were getting to the hospital. He told him not to worry about it as they pulled into the parking lot.

Lewis always considered walking into a hospital so depressing. As far as he was concerned, it was basically like walking into the home of the ailed and the troubled.

“Mr. Norton, about time you showed up.” Dr. Libman was a usually a cheery fellow. He wasn’t, however, very pleasant towards people who challenged any diagnosis of his. Sadly enough, Lewis fell into that category.

“Right. Doctor Libman.” He turned completely around and quietly said to his friend, “You can go wait over by the vending machine. Shouldn’t take long. I figured there’d be a wait. Sorry.” Kyle shrugged and grabbed himself a seat.

“Mr, Norton,” doctor Libman said again, seemingly slightly confused and annoyed, “I’m a busy man. Do you realize that your medication should’ve run out two weeks ago? I realize perfectly well that you don’t enjoy taking it.”

“How exactly did you know that?” Lewis asked, completely aware that he’d never said it directly to the doctor. He’d said it to his mother, obviously. And Libman had undoubtedly heard it from her. But he’d already read the journal by that point.

“What do you mean, Mr. Norton? You told me that.”

“No,” Lewis shook his head. “I’ve never told you that.” The two looked at each other for a moment, a white hot intensity burning between them. “But luckily, doctor Libman, your prescription puts my mother’s mind at rest. That happens to make my life a lot easier. And it just so happens that I’ve run out of the miracle drug in question.”

Doctor Libman’s frown was priceless. That kind of attitude made him immediately inclined to not give someone what they wanted. But what they wanted, in Lewis’s case, was exactly what the doctor wanted to give him.

“Fine,” he scowled. “I’ll get you a refill on one condition. You’re to take them on time from this point on.”

Lewis laughed. He wasn’t generally an extremely assertive person, but Libman brought that personality trait out in him. He knew he held all the power in the conversation. “Is that right? Maybe I don’t want to follow your schedule.”

“Well then you’ll be getting no more medication from me.”

Lewis’s face filled with the brightest smile it had held in a long while. “Wonderful. A doctor refusing to treat a supposedly ill man. I’ll take that as a vote of confidence for my spotless health.” He turned towards Kyle and signaled for him to stand. Libman caught him by the shoulder.

“Come on, now, Lewis.” He turned his patient around. “We both know perfectly well that you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want a refill. Now, I’ve been good about keeping this quiet, but if you keep avoiding the medication like you do, I might be forced to alert-”

“Go ahead,” Lewis taunted. “You know just as well as I do that I’ll pass any test you give me with flying colours. My mother’s word combined with yours doesn’t carry a whole lot of weight without proof. Now I’ll thank you kindly to quickly get my refill so I can get back to the school.”

There could be no further argument after that. Refusing to give him medication would’ve been acknowledging a complete lack of a problem. Additionally, what he said was true. Doctor Libman couldn’t have the drugs forcefully administered. He was lucky they were taken at all.

“Your pills,” he said sourly as he exited his office. Lewis smiled at him and took the container. As he and Kyle walked away, doctor Libman shouted, “You’ll find, Mr. Norton, that I wasn’t wrong with my diagnosis.” Lewis had heard that too many times.

When they’d reached the car, Kyle looked at his friend and asked, “What was that all about? All over some headache pills?” Lewis nodded.

“Doctor Libman and I don’t see eye to eye on many things. He’s convinced I’m handling things wrong.” Kyle looked at him. His empathy was surprising.

“I’m not an expert on the subject, dude. I’m not even sure what’s going on, but I think you’re doing a pretty good job.” Lewis couldn’t help but laugh. Coming from Kyle, words of comfort just sounded so odd.

“Thanks.” He started up the car and realized that he still didn’t know where Kyle was going. “Where should I drop you off, man?”

Kyle was still looking out the window. This time, however, it appeared that he actually didn’t hear the question. Lewis asked it again. “Oh,” he said. “Well, it doesn’t really matter. Where are you going?”

Lewis raised an eyebrow. Kyle was basing his destination according to where ever he was going? That was an interesting decision. A going with the wind kind of thing. “Uh, back to my apartment, I guess. I was planning on going back to the school to catch a class or two, but I think I might pass.”

“Ah,” Kyle thought aloud. “Well, if you’re going back to your apartment anyway, I don’t suppose you’d mind if I hung out?” Lewis shook his head. “Awesome. Maybe we can even get that steak we talked about.”

“That sounds good.” The rest of the drive home was a rather quiet one. The two men talked about a few random things along the way. Elizabeth was brought up at some point, but only briskly.

When they arrived back at the apartment, Lewis was out of the car long before Kyle. When he realized his friend had remained inside the car, he moved over to the window. Kyle realized he was being stared at and snapped out of his daze.

“Sorry, man. I’ve been a bit out of it, lately,” Kyle told him. “I think maybe I haven’t been sleeping well or something. I’ll try to pay more attention.” Lewis laughed, but his mind was moving faster and faster. What had Kyle just said? Was it coincidence?

“Not getting a whole lot of sleep lately?” Lewis asked as they walked to the apartment door. Kyle shook his head, yawned, and said a little something about bad dreams. When they arrived at the door, Lewis had almost completely forgotten which key it was.

“Is that right?” Lewis asked, hardly paying attention to his own question. He found the key and unlocked the door. “That’s too bad.” Kyle nodded and they walked inside. Since his headache had returned, Lewis walked to the fridge and grabbed a glass of milk.

“Eager to make your way through those headache pills, huh?” Kyle said with a grin as Lewis popped the top of the bottle off. Lewis nodded, laughed, and told his friend that he could grab a seat on the couch.

The milk was cool against the back of his throat and the two pills went down without a fight. He also swallowed an aspirin, hoping it might speed up the process. Meanwhile, Kyle was looking out the window from the couch. “We’re only two stories up, but people still look awfully small.”

“I know,” Lewis said after he’d completely swallowed the milk. He walked over and sat down on the couch. “I look out there sometimes when I’m bored. I’m not usually all that bored, though.” He gave a small chuckle and looked at the clock over his shoulder.

Kyle must’ve noticed that he was looking at the time. “Ha ha, sorry man. Am I keeping you from something?”

Lewis turned around and was instantly apologetic. “Nah. I was just worrying about some tests I needed to correct,” he lied. “But I’ve still got lots of time. I appreciate the company.”

His friend didn’t seem to buy it, but he smiled nonetheless. Lewis eventually got bored of the silence and turned on the television. “Anything you’d like to watch?” he questioned while flicking through channels.

“Not really. Anything’s fine, I guess.” That sentiment obviously didn’t last long. “Football!” he shouted as the television landed on the channel. Lewis shook his head and laughed. No wonder they were such good friends. Lewis would never object to an afternoon spent watching a football game.

“Sure. You never mentioned that you like football, Kyle.”

His friend shrugged. “You never asked. Why? You like it too?” Lewis nodded. “Really? Wow. Do you play?”

“I used to,” Lewis replied, “way back in high school. I haven’t picked up a football in ages, though. I probably couldn’t play any more.”

“Aw, poor baby,” Kyle teased playfully. “You become a teacher and all of a sudden you’ve got a stiff back or something like that, right?” He stuck his tongue out mockingly.

Lewis frowned. “What’re you, six years old? Besides, I’ve seen you run. I could take you any day of the week.” Kyle couldn’t help but laugh. But when it became obvious that his friend wasn’t joking, he straightened up.

“Yeah?” Lewis’s face remained as serious as ever. “Alright, then. Let’s do it.”

“What? Right now?” Lewis asked when Kyle stood up from the couch. His friend nodded, a huge grin on his face. “Okay,” Lewis said, still thinking. “Let me see if I can find my old ball in one of the boxes. Wait here. Should only take a few minutes.” Kyle nodded.

There was an impatient tapping of a foot as Lewis looked through all the boxes in his bedroom closet. There were still several boxes to look through, and the tapping foot was getting annoying. His headache was going down, though, so that was a plus. Nonetheless, Lewis couldn’t help but feel relieved when he heard Kyle stop making those annoying thuds.

He found so many old, memorable things within those boxes. He found his old baseball glove from when he was only a young child. He also found some report cards he’d chosen to keep. Looking at them made him laugh.

His teachers’ remarks always made him laugh. Student demonstrates acceptable knowledge, but has trouble paying attention. Lewis works well with others but is sometimes too easily distracted. Effort is satisfactory, but he occasionally disrupts the class.

He also found a few old pictures of himself and Elizabeth. They were from back when he was in university. So many memories in such a confined space.

After about five minutes of reminiscing, Lewis found the old, worn football. It had been given to him by Stan Frasier, his best friend from high school. It held value not only because of the memory of playing on the football team, but because it was really the last part of Stan that Lewis could hold onto.

Stan had died of lung cancer when he’d turned 20. He was in his sophomore year, and Lewis would never forget the feeling he got in the bottom of his stomach when it happened.

He’d been such a carefree, fun loving guy. As the quarter back on the football team and the fastest mouth in the twelfth grade, he was someone to be admired by his peers. He wasn’t afraid to walk into a classroom almost like he owned it and then give the teacher his honest opinion.

It took Lewis a few more minutes to escape from his memories. He remembered that he still had Kyle waiting for him in the living room. That was fine, though. The apartment was free of irritating tapping, which probably meant Kyle had gone back to the game.

When he exited the hallway, however, he found that his friend was no longer waiting for him on the couch. Nor was he sitting at the kitchen counter. He wasn’t in the bathroom, and he hadn’t gone into the spare room.

“Kyle?” Lewis called. He walked further into the living room and then over to the door. He softly put his hand against the metal knob. The apartment door was open. So Kyle had left? Lewis walked into the corridor and looked around. He was nowhere to be found. “Kyle?” he called once more, louder this time.

“Where the hell did he go?” he asked out loud as he sat down on the couch. It was quite evident that he’d left, but where to? As he thought about that answer, however, Lewis began to wonder. Had the door been open when he got there? Or did he open it himself without realizing it?

Either way, Kyle had obviously run off somewhere. Perhaps he’d been late for a date or something. Or maybe he had groceries or something to do. Lewis joked that maybe he’d run off because he was afraid of getting beaten in football.

But Kyle was beginning to worry him. It was fine that he didn’t call when he said he would. He’d run into a friend. That was understandable. But running out of the apartment without even hollering to his friend in the next room? Why would he do that?

The football game was still playing on the television. There wasn’t a whole lot else he could do. Kyle didn’t have a cell phone, so he couldn’t call. He might’ve been able to correct some tests, but he really just wasn’t in the mood. Football seemed an adequate excuse.

Lewis hadn’t watched football in a while. After Stan had died, he’d been completely unable to. Eventually, however, he’d started watching it again. He hadn’t ever played again, though. It just wouldn’t feel right without Stan there with him.

When he did watch football, he liked to put himself and Stan in the game. He’d watch the play and congratulate his friend on any good throws. It was childish, obviously, but it was one of his methods of coping.

He watched the different plays, smiling every time his friend received the snap. At one point, after the tiny little quarterback on the screen had made an extremely long pass, he clapped his hands and whispered, “Way to be, Kyle.”

It took him a moment to realize his mistake. It hadn’t sounded right coming out of his mouth. Why had he mixed up the names? “That’s right,” Lewis said as he realized what he’d said. “Kyle plays football, too. Wow. I swear, that guy never ceases to amaze.”

After the football game ended, Lewis decided to fix himself some supper. He didn’t really have an incredibly large selection, though. It came down to macaroni and cheese or boiled hotdogs. In the end, the hotdogs seemed the easier choice. He sat down at the table – which only rarely ever saw use – with his hotdog and a pile of English quizzes. It wasn’t exactly how he enjoyed spending a Wednesday afternoon, but at least he’d gotten the day off.

For the first time in a while, he didn’t have any trouble concentrating. When he read through the paragraphs of poorly edited punctuation, he caught everya misplaced comma or abused semicolon.

After a bit, it began to seem almost frightening. Maybe it was the complete lack of a headache that had done it. Maybe it was something psychological. Whatever was causing it didn’t matter. It was doing wonders for the correction process.

It only took him twenty minutes to get through the entire pile of papers. Twenty minutes, he thought. That was less than a quarter of the time it would normally take him to get through something like that.

When he’d finished, he had more time left over than he knew what to do with. Not only was he able to focus more easily, though. He also felt bubbly. He couldn’t remember feeling so full of energy since before Elizabeth had left.

He paced around the house, picking up objects and putting them in their place. It wasn’t really because he couldn’t stay still. Rather, it was because he wasn’t sure when the next time he’d feel up to the task of cleaning would be.

When it came time to go to bed, he almost didn’t want to go. He was feeling quite good about himself. What if it ended in the morning? He was quite sure it would end in the morning. All the same, he had no choice. He needed to get his sleep for the next day.

He brushed his teeth. When he’d finished, his teeth looked whiter and felt cleaner. He combed his hair out of his eyes, and it seemed to put up less of a fight. And when he crawled into bed, the warmth and sense of security was more present than ever. The darkness comforted him instead of swallowing him.

As he drifted gently to sleep, on top of the microwave sat the pill container. However, it wasn’t the same pill container. If Lewis had been paying more attention, he would have noticed slightly different numbering.

Lewis woke up the next morning feeling exactly as he’d thought he would. He’d been feeling too well the previous night to possibly wake up happy. Perhaps it was because of his burnt toast. Or perhaps it was because of the stiffening cold in his apartment. Either way, it just didn’t seem like it was going to be a good day.

After he’d chilled himself to full consciousness in the shower and had filled his stomach with charred bread, he gathered his things onto the table and looked through them. If he’d made it more of a goal the night before to worry about his things for work rather than for the quality of his apartment, he’d have already been gone.

“Tests, quizzes, notes, answer sheets,” he repeated to himself over and over as he moved to the sink. As the glass filled slowly, he grabbed two aspirin and one of his pills. He considered for a moment taking two of each, but he’d never really needed two before. It wasn’t that bad, anyway. It might help, but it would be a little excessive, wouldn’t it?

When he’d swallowed all three of the tiny capsules and his glass of water, he hastily put all of the sheets into his black bag and made for the door.

Things were better when he arrived at school. His headache went away and he found himself concentrating more easily. It had been a while since he’d stood in front of the class with a meter stick in his hands and a smile on his face.

“Mr. Norton, you’re looking awfully cheerful, today. Won the lottery, did you?” asked one of the other teachers. He continued to smile throughout the day. Even when he had his grade ten English class, he couldn’t help but enjoy the random banter and pointless chit chat.

During lunch, he went into the teachers’ lounge to eat a cold slice of pizza he’d found in the fridge from the weekend and sip at some coffee. There were two others in the room. Michelle Teague was the phys ed teacher. She was joined shortly by Dan Campbell.

Michelle – she preferred people use her first name, as “miss Teague” scared her to death – and Lewis had been talking about the dance from the week before when Mr. Campbell walked in.

“Michelle, Lewis,” he greeted. He pulled a chair out and grabbed himself a cup of coffee. When he noticed how quiet the other two had gotten, he waved his hand and said, “Oh no, don’t let me interrupt.”

Lewis and Michelle smiled kindly at the older man. “As I was saying,” Michelle continued, “they got what was coming to them. They all knew better.”

“I know,” Lewis agreed, despite sounding somewhat unconvinced, “but I still think they were a little hard on them. I mean, if you put up a sign that says, ‘no booze,’ what do you honestly expect you’re going to find?”

Dan laughed. “Some of them were students of mine. A few cookies short of a jar, without a doubt, but they’re not bad kids.”

“All the same, if you break the rules you’re going to get punished,” Michelle concluded resolutely.”

“I was like that as a kid.” Michelle and Dan looked at Lewis. He nodded. “Yeah. I nearly got suspended three times in high school. I think it’s just a point in your life when you need to feel noticed, really. And they weren’t hurting anyone.”

“They could have.” Michelle really didn’t seem to want to let it go. That was understandable. Her brother had lost his leg in a car collision.

“Why were you out yesterday, Lewis?” Mr. Campbell asked, trying to avoid the subject.

“Doctor’s appointment. I wasn’t feeling well when I got home, either. I thought maybe I could catch a class or two, but I really just wasn’t feeling up to it.”

“Mind if I ask what the appointment was for?” Michelle asked, also happy to be off the previous subject.”

“Yeah,” Lewis said, shuffling a bit. “Bad migraines lately.” Michelle nodded fiercely as if she understood exactly what he meant. Mr. Campbell, however, just sat there with his coffee and a thoughtful look in his eyes.

“You get them often?” he asked, still looking like he was thinking about something incredibly deep. Lewis wasn’t sure what to say. He did get headaches fairly often. Was it the kind of thing he should be telling other teachers, though?

“Sometimes, yeah. It’s fine, though. I think it’s just because of a lack of sleep and stress.”

Michelle was still nodding, but the eldest of the three remained silent for a moment. “I had a friend who used to tell me about the same thing,” he said finally, smiling as if to honour a memory. “He was a teacher, too, so you could very well be right. Do you have trouble concentrating sometimes, too?”

Lewis nodded. He hadn’t meant for the topic to come to rest on him and his problems, though. He didn’t enjoy it, either. “Oh, before I forget,” he said, sneakily trying to change the direction of the discussion, “do either of you know why Mrs. Mirandez is out?”

They talked for another small while. During the conversation, a few other teachers came into the lounge and listened. Some added in their fleeting opinions on the matters.

Michelle stood as the bell rang and said, “Well, I can’t be late. I’ve got nets to set up.” Dan smiled and Lewis waved. The two men were left in the room alone.

“I guess I should be getting to class,” Lewis told the other man. Mr. Campbell, however, seemed to be thinking about something. Whatever he was thinking about, he quickly shrugged it off dismissively.

“Me too,” he finally said. “I just hope they’re not playing that ‘penis’ game again. Sometimes I really wonder if it’s not all wasted effort.” He laughed and made his way back to class.

The rest of the day passed by without much commotion. Lewis was surprised to find that it was actually his students who were playing the aforementioned game. They must’ve caught it from Mr. Campbell’s class, he joked. When they got bored of that, they would change it up a bit and yell out less pleasant expletives. It wasn’t the most amusing thing to hear, but they were just having fun.

He passed out the English quizzes to his final class. There were some joking gasps and some raised eyebrows. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “I passed something back on time. Real surprising. If some of you followed suit, your marks might not be so low.” He hadn’t been joking, but they laughed regardless.

When the school day ended, he found himself without a whole lot to do. He had a test for the students on Monday, but he’d finished writing most of it. He only had to wait to see if the class would finish the last two chapters in the next day’s class.

Without anything else keeping him at the school, Lewis went home early with a smile on his face. He unlocked the door and walked into the apartment with a pirouette. The morning’s gloom was completely gone. He felt like someone in a movie who might burst into spontaneous song and dance.

The glee and weightlessness that came with being rid of morning’s depression, however, was squashed somewhat when he thought of Kyle. His friend had left him hanging rather awkwardly the day before.

Lewis couldn’t picture him actually answering his phone, but it was worth a try. The phone rang several times before Lewis got the message about how no one was answering and how you were an idiot for calling when, quite obviously, no one was home. It was politer than that, naturally, but that was how it always sounded to Lewis.

It didn’t surprise him at all. Kyle was hardly ever home, he figured. He wasn’t sure why that was. He had to work, obviously. And Kyle had told him that he volunteered in the community every now and then. Lewis also knew that he spent some of his time partying.

As he sat down on the couch and looked at all the people on the street outside, he couldn’t get rid of the nervous feeling in his gut. Kyle wasn’t the type to abandon someone, he thought. Why would he just run off without notice, then?

Maybe if he could just hear that his friend was alright, he’d feel better. Perhaps he’d feel better when Kyle told him that he’d simply seen someone being mugged outside on the street or that there was a little girl wandering aimless in the middle of the road. Nothing but excuses – plausible excuses, at least – filled his mind.

“Let it go,” Lewis told himself. Kyle was just impatient. He’d probably forgotten that he’d had a date planned and didn’t even have the time to yell down the hall. He was a very compulsive person, Lewis admitted.

He really didn’t feel like worrying about it. His friend would show up one day with a few donuts, an apologetic face and a relatively good excuse. That would be the end of it. When that man showed up with food, it was hard for Lewis to stay mad at him.

So Lewis went around the house during the early hours of the afternoon cleaning whatever was dusty and arranging anything that might be slightly out of place. By suppertime, he was feeling somewhat drained. More slowly, but in the same fashion as his energy, his cheerfulness drained away as well.

When a knock came on his door, he thought immediately of Kyle. It was probably a good thing he hadn’t cooked anything. He would very likely open the door to find a full meal on the other side. Imagine his surprise, then, when he opened the door and found not Kyle but another cheerful, familiar face. It was a face he hadn’t been expecting to see for a long while.

Word Count - 6554

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