The Clubhouse - 5. Give and Take

He rounded the corner onto Mayfair Road just as the streetlamps were coming on. The last remnants of daylight were fading away and the temperature was starting to drop. Tristan came to a stop outside an older gray home with pink shutters and a screened-in porch. He thought about the family that used to live there. Ansel and Hannah Bridges were the first set of twins he had ever known in real life. When they’d both shown up in his third-grade class, just before spring break, he knew he’d wanted to be their friends.

Over the next few years, Tristan and the twins became inseparable. They played together after school and on the weekends. They attended the same church. Their parents had even sent them to the same summer camp three years in a row.

Around middle school, Ansel got into sports – football and baseball – and it was only a matter of time before he got his own set of friends to hang with. There were no hard feelings and if Tristan were to be honest, he was a bit relieved. Over time he’d discovered he had a lot more in common with Hannah than he did with her brother.

He wondered where she was and how she was doing. The Bridges had moved away from Minor Springs just before the start of freshman year. Tristan was devastated by the news but Hannah had promised she’d keep in touch. She’d held true to her promise, for the most part, but a few years ago she got involved with someone, some guy with spiky black hair and a sleeve tattoo. There were pictures of the two of them on Facebook looking happy and in love. The daily phone calls and texts had dwindled, considerably, and now he only heard from her on his birthday, sometimes, and during the holidays, when she remembered.

Tristan tugged at the drawstrings on his lavender hoodie as he stared up at the house. A cold breeze blew past him, tickling the hairs on his legs. It was getting dark and he really needed to get home and finish the book he hadn’t got to read much of due to a certain handsome jock who’d somehow been saddled with detention as well.

Tristan started in the direction of his house which was a couple of streets over. His phone started to vibrate inside the pocket of the black Umbro shorts he’d taken from his brother’s old closet. He pulled the phone out and saw Everett Goolsby’s grinning mug flash across his screen.

“Dad said you were out for a run.”

Hearing his brother’s voice never ceased to amaze him. Since moving out to the west coast, his syrupy drawl had mostly faded away. However, we came home for the holidays, usually a day into his stay, it came back, stronger than ever.

“Isn’t it kinda late there?” he asked.

Tristan checked the time on his phone. It was nearly eight-thirty.

“I got started late,” he said. “I had to stay after school.”

“Ah,” Everett said. “Big paper due?”

Tristan paused at an intersection and looked both ways before continuing across the street. He moved as fast as he could without running. His limbs felt twice their wait. He suppressed a yawn before he turned down his street.

“I had detention today. Actually, I have detention tomorrow as well. And the day after.”

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me,” Everett blurted. “You had detention?”

“Yeah. Apparently, it’s against the rules to leave during the middle of the day.”

“Well, shit. What did Dad say?”

“Not much. I told him I was sick, so he didn’t press the issue.”

“Were you sick?”

Tristan was sure he detected a hint to skepticism in his brother’s voice.

“Yeah,” he said. “Had I known I was going to end up with three days’ worth of detention, I wouldn’t have left.”

Liar, he thought to himself.

Tristan stood in front of his house. Unlike Hannah’s old house, the lights were on inside. He could make out his dad’s silhouette sitting in his favorite chair next to the fireplace. He was probably a game or a rerun of Law and Order.

“I’m home by the way,” he said.

“Good,” Everett said. “Not a fan of you running around the neighborhood at night. I’m too far away to fly in and save the day should I need to.”

Tristan rolled his eyes and groaned.

“I’m not helpless,” he said.

“You’re far from helpless. Doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you.”

Tristan started towards the front door. He dug around in the pocket of his hoodie for his house key.

“So, detention, huh,” Everett spoke. “What’s that like?”

“Aside from this guy refusing to shut up, it wasn’t so bad.”

“I thought you weren’t allowed to talk in detention. Or use your phone.”

Tristan found his key and he inserted it into the lock. He pushed open the front door and stepped inside.

“Dad I’m home,” he said. “Have you eaten yet?”

Jason Goolsby looked up from the flatscreen television and saw Tristan standing at the front door. He smiled and patted his belly.

“Had leftovers,” he said. “The potatoes are gone but there’s more meatloaf in the fridge.”

Tristan nodded and turned to walk into the kitchen. He flicked the light switch and the kitchen was bathed in a sickly glow. The sink was piled high with dishes. He walked over to the dishwasher and yanked open the door. There were more dishes inside.

“You still there?” his brother asked.

Tristan used a stopper to plug the drain before turning on the hot water. He squeezed a liberal amount of dish detergent into the water.

“Sorry,” he said. “You were saying?”

“I said I didn’t think they allowed you to talk in detention. Back when I had detention, they made us turn in our phones and we couldn’t even sit at the same table.”

“We didn’t have to turn in our phones,” Tristan said. “But we weren’t supposed to talk. We were supposed to work on homework which I was trying to do but this guy sat down at my table even though there were like two other tables he could’ve sat at.”

“Is that so,” Everett said. “And just who is this guy you’re referring to?”

“His name is Finn Montgomery and before you start, he’s straight and therefore off-limits.”

“I didn’t say anything”

“You didn’t have to. I can hear it in your voice.”

“Look, I was just curious,” Everett said. “I wasn’t implying you had a crush on this Finn guy or anything like that. I mean he’s straight.”

“And he has a girlfriend,” Tristan said. “And I’m pretty sure they’re destined to be married. She strikes me as someone who’s had their wedding planned since they were six.”

“Is that jealously I’m detecting?”

“I’m hanging up now.”

Tristan unzipped his hoodie and pulled it off. He draped it over the back of one of the chairs around the kitchen table.

“Maybe he wants to be friend,” Everett said.

“Doubtful. We live in two different worlds. Literally. He lives on the other side of town. The good side.”

“What exactly does that have to do with you being friends with this Finn guy?”

“Ev, trust me when I say, it’s not gonna happen. Besides, I’ll be graduating in less than a month. I won’t even see these people anymore.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. Tristan cradled his phone between his ear and shoulder, and he started on the stack of dishes in the sink.

“Tristan, you know I love you but sometimes you can be a bit … closed off. It’s not going to kill you to get to know this guy. I’m not saying you have to be bosom buddies but if he’s making the effort, maybe you should make some effort as well. Relationships, whether romantic or platonic, require a bit of give and take.”

Tristan frowned as he rinsed out a bowl and placed it on the drying rack. He thought about Finn and how excited he’d been earlier. They’d spent the remainder of detention making small talk with each other. It seemed genuine but how could he know for sure?

“Here’s the part where you say ‘Ev, you’re so right and I’m going to try to be nicer to Finn tomorrow’.”

“I refuse to acknowledge on a possibly recorded line that you’re right about anything,” Tristan said.

“That’s okay,” Everett said. “In a few days I expect to here that you and this Finn guy are best friends and you’re going to be the best man in his wedding.”

Tristan laughed. He was so thankful for Everett. Even though they were over a thousand miles apart, they never went more than a couple of days without calling or texting. Talking to Everett made him feel a lot less alone in the world. He loved his dad and their relationship was pretty solid but he could talk to his brother about everything.

“Shit,” Everett hissed. “I need to get ready.”

“Big date?”

“I told a friend of mine I’d fill in for him tonight. He has a standing gig at this club downtown.”

“Your life is lot more interesting than mine.”

Everett sighed. “Eh, I reckon it’s alright. Listen, I’m glad we got to talk. Keep me posted on this Finn guy, okay.”

Tristan groaned and wiped his hands on the front of his shorts.

“Fine – but I think you’re making a big deal out of this.”

“Maybe so,” he said. “But hey, best case scenario – you end up making a friend.”