Breathing’s Just a Rhythm
“Word on the street is that you’re bearing the fruit of my good friend’s loins.” William says, draping himself against Kevin’s back, and Kevin considers the logistics of crawling inside of his locker and dying.*
“Word on the street is that you’re bearing the fruit of my good friend’s loins.” William says, draping himself against Kevin’s back, and Kevin considers the logistics of crawling inside of his locker and dying.*
In which Kevin is a sad little elf, and Mike panics and buys way the fuck too much tinsel.*
“We’ll get it, and it’ll be cute for a day, and then I’ll be the one stuck feeding it and cleaning up after it,” Kevin says, trying to aim for his mom’s scary face and probably falling flat, because Mike just crowds into his space and smiles slow.
“Isn’t that exactly the same thing you said when I mentioned wanting kids?” he asks.*
The week that all of Kevin’s friends leave to go to college, he turns off the phone and plays eight different games of Monopoly with Nick.*